


Falling Star - Rising Star

by SnowSetAfire



Category: Suikoden
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-20 06:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 58,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3639759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowSetAfire/pseuds/SnowSetAfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two hundred years after the Second Fire Bringer War, an agent of Harmonia at last finds the Rune of Change.  But finding one of the True Runes unleashes a torrent that will separate mother from son, ruler from country, law from chaos, and leave all fighting against the currents of Fate.  This is an imagination of a final war waged between the Rune of Change and the Circle Rune in Harmonia, where the triumph of order will mean the end of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Salvisa looked quietly out a large glass window in of one of the Crystal Palace’s many guest rooms. The moon had only just appeared above the horizon, swollen and red in a sea of twilight. The door to her room was locked—from the outside, she had found—and her head ached too much to read any of the books set invitingly on the coffee table. Salvisa was also too restless to sit. Her heart was sick with worry over the ache that blazed from her forehead, over the Bishops who locked her here alone, and most of all over her son. She had only done everything that was asked of her- so why did everything go so wrong?

\---

“Tell me more about this thing, Maren.” Salvisa had to raise her voice over the ceaseless roar of the ship taking her team to the Island Nations.  
“It’s called an engine. You put fuel in here, and the the heat makes steam drive the pistons and turn the propeller.” Maren said, excited that someone had taken interest in the workings of her Pearl of Iluya, and she continued even though Salvisa had already far lost her. Maren may as well have started speaking a foreign language.

Even if Maren’s explanation escaped her, Salvisa continued looking at the machine, fascinated that a mechanical beast such as this could make a boat move, and so fast! The sleekest Harmonian ships needed a strong wind in their sails to match what the Pearl could achieve in the doldrums. But the heat by the engine was oppressive, and the noise so unbearable Salvisa almost wished she could have had sailing ship to take her to her destination, doldrums be damned. Still, the Bishops had demanded Salvisa find a rune believed to be in the Island Nations, and all the speed in the world was necessary to make sure that Harmonian hands acquired it first.  
Wiping sweat from her brow, Salvisa turned back to Maren, “Your nation’s technology is impressive. Excuse me, but I need to check on my team members.”

Maren nodded and returned to inspecting the gauges which dotted the steam engine’s many parts like barnacles. Salvisa felt cooler as soon as she reached the wooden stair to the main deck and took a deep breath of sea air to replace the smoky, oily air from below. She saw Bram looking out across the ocean on the port side. The rest were likely to be gaming inside, as Corbin had been seasick as soon as they hit open ocean.

“Bram, anything new?” Salvisa asked as she drew up to his side and rested her arms on the railing.  
“Not much Mam,” Bram replied, “But I overheard that they sighted the island in the distance. I believe we’ll land before midafternoon.”  
“Oh, that’s excellent news!” Salvisa broke out into a relieved smile. The sooner she could be on land, the sooner she could finish her work and return. “Just remember, that means this evening I stop being your Mam and start being your Captain.”  
Salvisa rustled her son’s fine brown hair, and he sheepishly batted her arm away.  
“How was it below deck?” Bram asked.  
“Loud. Hot. Oily. You should see it before we take our Harmonian ship back home. There’s this ‘engine’ that powers the entire ship. Maybe I should report on it when we return home.”  
“Don’t you think the Bishops already know, Mam? Besides, it doesn’t matter how much fast an ‘engine’ is compared to sails, no one’d ever pass the shorelines of Harmonia. I don’t think Islanders would have any idea how to wage a land war, and we have mountains between what’s left of the Grasslands and any other nation that might have the foolish thought of rising up. But yes, I’ll check it out on the way back.”  
“Good. Corbin and the rest are still in the cabin, right?”  
“I haven’t seen or heard of them anywhere else.”  
“Let’s join them. If we have the rest of the day to go over our plan, let’s do so before heading out.”

Not much had changed since the last time that Bram and Salvisa entered the cabin. Corbin lay propped up in his berth, his brows furrowed in determination to not be sick. McKee appeared half-asleep with boredom, but Salvisa knew him to always look that way until he had the immediate prospect of getting some beast’s blood on his sword. Ravenna had taken her seat at the far end of the cabin where she could read a tactical manual undisturbed.  
“And you Corbin, what’ll you do when we’re back?” McKee asked  
“Taking my pay and going shopping.” Corbin answered, “My fiancée and I will need staff for our estate. Gods, I hope she still doesn’t have ideas of getting elves.”  
“What’s wrong with elves?” Ravenna asked, suddenly interested in the conversation.  
“I guess you wouldn’t know, living in the Tower. As far as subhuman races go, elves are the more intelligent, and certainly better looking than some kobold cur or dwarf. The problem, though-“ Corbin tapped the side of his bed with one finger for emphasis, “Is just that. Even if you only need to train an elf once and be good for the next few human generations, they’re nothing but trouble. That, and their females seduce our men, and the males defile our women. There’s a reason an elf is cheap on the market. No, I’d rather go for a sturdy human slave any day.”  
Ravenna wrinkled her nose in disgust. Salvisa, having listened in, sympathized a little. The girl had spent her whole life fighting for life and rank in the Howling Voice Guild, and only now was granted her rifle and sent out into the world. She might understand what it meant to go on a mission such as this with the Temple Guard, but she would never be able to see the world with the clear blue eyes of herself, Corbin, or McKee- or any other pure-born citizen of Harmonia.

“Listen up,” Salvisa announced, “We’ll be landing soon and we had better make a good start by nightfall.”  
McKee rolled his massive shoulders back to stretch them. “Great! I’m dying for dirt beneath my boots.”

But there was precious little dirt to be found. The shore was stone, worn smooth by millennia of waves, but the interior was densely covered with wet vegetation that seemed to only be able to take root in the smothered remains of its forbears. Trees seemed to erupt through a canopy of moss. Each step on the green and golden leaves collapsed them beneath the feet before they sprung back like risen dough. Salvisa scarcely saw more than traces of the beasts that lived in the forest, but the air was alive with insects and distant birds.

That night, they found nothing of the Rune. Ravenna brought an animal down for supper, something like a hare with the ears of a donkey on long, spindly legs. On that and a reconstituted broth, Salvisa’s party slept underneath one of the great trees as the forest whispered throughout the night. 

Before the morning mist had lifted from the forest, they had found their quarry. Bram was the first to sight it.  
“Captain!” He whispered harshly and waved Salvisa over. She followed his finger to a creature pawing through the living ground as if looking for something. Salvisa was surprised that Corbin hadn’t seen the beast, but it must have wandered by only recently. The only trace of her scout was a series of blazes ahead of them.

And it was a beast. Though somewhat humanoid in shape, it was covered in a scabrous hide that hung with mosses as a beggar might hang with rags. Wide but sunken eyes looked down a sallow face to watch the its long, knotted paws as they worked over the ground.  
Not paws. Salvisa thought. Hands- they look so human.  
“I saw the mark on its head.” Bram said, “It’s just like in our brief.”  
Salvisa motioned for Ravenna and McKee to flank the creature. Ravenna moved as a shadow, and even McKee had no trouble passing across the soft turf without a sound. Salvisa nodded, laying her hands on the leather grip of her sword. Ravenna would shoot the thing, and the rest would finish it off, extracting the Rune from its corpse with the special smoked-glass vessel given to them by the Bishops. That was the plan.

Suddenly, the creature looked up with a grunt. Its clouded eyes bored straight into Salvisa and Bram. Ravenna’s rifle let free a single shot with a deafening crack, but the bullet ricocheted of its scaly temple, leaving barely a gouge. Salvisa loosed her weapon from its sheath and let it slice the air ahead of her as she advanced forward, Bram beside her with his sword. 

The creature lowed, a deep sound as of close thunder that faded into the rattle of dead branches in the wind. Its rune glowed, shining hot and bright until Salvisa could see nothing but the orange traces of the Rune on a field of white.

Then nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa awakens to find what had become of the Rune of Change, and returns with her team to Harmonia to learn what the Bishops have in store.

Salvisa opened her eyes to the thick canopy of trees. She was on her back, her side aching like she had fallen on it, and her forehead pulsing with a loud migraine.

“Captain Salvisa is awake!” She heard Ravenna call out.  
Salvisa wrested herself onto her elbows and looked around to see everyone clustered around her. As far as she could tell, they hadn’t moved from where the monster and been spotted.  
“What happened?” Salvisa asked slowly.  
“You heard it scream.”  
“Sigh.” Corbin corrected, “It was loud, but it was sighing.”  
“Sigh, then. And after that light, it disappeared like it burned up. There’s nothing left.”  
Salvisa lurched forward and squinted at the jolt of soreness in her head, “But the Rune!?”  
Ravenna looked at Bram, then to Corbin and McKee uneasily. Ravenna gestured slowly, placing two of her fingers on her own forehead. “Captain, you have it.”  
Salvisa reached up, her hands cold and shaking, to touch her forehead. It was warm and raised with the new mark branded on her. “And Bram? Are you hurt at all?”  
Her son said nothing, his jaw clenched tight in an effort to banish any show of emotion. But Salvisa could see it in his eyes what happened before he brushed aside his fine brown hair from his forehead. Half the marking that the monster once bore was now etched into Bram’s forehead.

Forgetting about her own pain, Salvisa leapt forward to hug her son to her chest and bury her lips and nose in his hair. Bram wrapped his arms around her weakly.  
“I’m so sorry, Bram.”  
“No, Mam, it will be okay.” Bram said, more to convince himself than anyone else, “I’m certain the Bishops can help. If they’re strong enough to bear the True Runes, then they must know how to remove them.”  
“Don’t discount yourself either. I remember when I first held you, you were so frail you seemed to have given up on life. And look how strong you’ve become now.”

Salvisa arrived home in shame, handing over herself and the empty rune vessel to the mercy of the Bishops and praying that she would not be suspected of treason. The Bishops motioned between each other that all was not lost; the Rune halves could be removed and reunited. It was, they said, only the matter of a small ritual. Bram followed a rune scholar down the busy halls of the Crystal Palace, and Salvisa obediently waited her turn.

That had been hours ago, when the sun was not even at its zenith. Suddenly, Salvisa heard the click of the door unlocking. Her heart leapt as she turned around.  
“Is it time?” she asked. Salvisa didn’t recognize this person- he had the grand robes and hat of a Bishop, but smaller stature than any of the Bishops she had seen so far today. The top of his head was barely level with Salvisa’s nose, and his face was hidden behind a brass mask. The mask reflected the candle light of the room back warmly, except where it had clearly been shattered and repaired with silvery metal. The cracks looked like lightning in a summer storm.  
“No, they are still setting up the ritual. Salvisa, you must not allow them to get the second half of your Rune.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean exactly as I said. It would take too much time to explain… But if the Bishops have the completed Rune of Change, Harmonia will be destroyed. Your Rune itself will show you the result. Salvisa, you must run!”  
Salvisa hesitated, not sure what to believe or say or do. The Bishop took her hand. It’s small, she thought in spite of herself, and soft and warm. Then again, they couldn’t have been cold with how tight his fists were clenched until now.  
“I helped design the ritual.” He said softly, “It’s still too crude- you will be torn to pieces even if the Rune willingly leaves your body. And worse will happen to Bram once his half of the Rune is completed. Salvisa, please escape. If you love your country and you love your son, you have to.”  
“But if I leave, what will they do with Bram?”  
“He will be safe. The High Priest needs him.”  
They both fell silent for a moment.  
“How can I leave? There will be guards everywhere.”  
The Bishop let go of Salvisa and walked over to a panel in the corner. With a gentle press, the panel swung in to reveal a dark corridor. A draft of cold air stung the room.  
“Take this corridor to the kitchen, and out through the storage rooms. The servants will pay you no mind. From there, it doesn’t matter what direction you choose. Just don’t let the Temple get the Rune!”  
Salvisa nodded and stepped into the narrow passage.  
“Salvisa, before you go-” the Bishop said, slipping a ring from his finger and pressing it into her hand, “Keep this as well. I will find you as soon as I can, and you’ll know me by this ring’s mate.”  
“You won’t let me see your face?”  
“No, if you fail before we meet again, they will force you to tell everything. I would lose my last chance to help you.”

Salvisa shut the door carefully behind her. Once inside the passage, Salvisa found it both broader and lighter than she expected. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the thin streams of light that filtered through from above. The amount of sound that filled the room was fascinating yet frightening. In the room where she had been imprisoned, she thought it was silent save for the whisper of boots and conversation in the outside hallway. Here, Salvisa could hear the creak of the floors above her, the harsh reprimands in the room she thought was exactly next to hers, and could even catch the Bishop closing the main door into the room that previously held her. With a deep, measured breath, Salvisa padded as quietly as she could through this hidden world.

\---

“Please, take a seat.” a Bishop gestured for Bram to take a richly upholstered armchair.

He hadn’t known what to expect when taken into the hands of the Bishops. They first took him to the infirmary for the most thorough medical exam he ever had, and then halfway across the Palace to some Rune scholars who had only muttered between themselves, made brief incantations, and ceremoniously copied down the form of the True Rune on Bram’s forehead. Now he was being asked to sit down in front of people vastly his superior. Gingerly, not sure if he was becoming a punchline in some elaborate prank, Bram sat down. He didn’t realize how tired he was until the soft cushions enveloped him.

The Bishop himself occupied almost an entire couch, though most of the space was occupied by the voluminous folds of his robes. Of the man shrouded in them, Bram couldn’t guess very much. His long beard was becoming a watery corn-silk blond, and he had a rounded face that could have been forty years old and worn or sixty and well-fed.

“Drink?” The man motioned to a decanter.  
Bram shook his head, “No, thank you, your Grace.”  
“You should relax, Bram.” The Bishop laughed softly. It was a warm, easy laugh. “Our scholars tell me that it would be hard to find someone better suited to bear a True Rune. You will be fine.”  
“Thank you, your Grace.”  
“I suppose it shouldn’t be surprising, considering your father.” The Bishop said almost off-handedly. He looked at Bram’s expression of shock with deep concern. “You mean Salvisa hasn’t told you?”  
“I’ve only heard her husband died in an avalanche at Verloren Pass, before she adopted me.”  
“Ah yes, Colonel Auxier Posthuma. That’s troubling... I should have suspected Salvisa would do such a thing. Bram, I apologize that we haven’t taken action sooner. Your true father, Bram, is the High Priest himself…”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa escapes into the night with one half of the Rune of Change, and morning finds her road to freedom already perilous.

Finding the kitchen was not hard, despite the lack of given directions. The noises and smells were more than enough to guide Salvisa. The growing heat alone would have directed her to the bustling, jungle-humid undercity of the servant’s domain.  
A trickle of sweat slipped down of the small of Salvisa’s back. Right, she thought, even if the servants don’t care, my uniform would give me away immediately. Backing into an alcove, she stripped off her capelet and coat, bundling them together. She thought about abandoning her uniform right there, but instead held the package close. It felt too much like she would be abandoning a part of herself.

The kitchen was a wonder. Every flavor of human and sub-human Salvisa had ever seen ground out their lives in front of her, scarred, bent, and twisted by the endless work of a kitchen slave. Salvisa ignored them except to stay out of their way and keep moving towards escape. With each heartbeat, she could feel time running out. She made several wrong but mercifully brief turns before she found the storage rooms, where she followed the cold night breeze to the stables and out of the Palace.

Salvisa needed a few minutes to orient herself after leaving the servant’s quarters, but did not let that slow her down as she made her way through the fading crowds of late evening and towards the great gates of the city. She was heading south, she recognized from the closing shops and lamp-lit street signs. That was fine. Her family’s estate was in the north, but Salvisa expected no love there for a traitor. On the other hand, the Dunan Republic’s relation with its northern neighbor were chilly at best, and if she couldn’t make the journey across or around the mountains that protected Harmonia there, she could try the inhospitable deserts lining the portions of the Grasslands that hadn’t yet been annexed.

Yes, Salvisa thought as she squeezed between merchant’s wagons leaving the main gates of the city, any direction might work with luck, but the south would be best. 

Salvisa ran all night, guiding her course by the moonlight on the roads but keeping her feet to the cover of the fields. The wheat stalks leaned against her under the heavy weight of their fruit. It was dawn when she came across an inn by the main road where two men were harnessing an ill-bred nag to their cart. Salvisa rested just out of sight, too tired yet to sleep. She needed to know if those men would take her further south, or just turn around and go back to the city. Even a short rest in the back of their cart as they travelled would be a blessing.

“Do you have everything, Don?" asked the older man. His question had an edge to it, like the younger man had held his partner back far too often already.  
"Yes, Walse." the younger man replied, equally sore at another implied slight. "Still have all the nothing left in the cart and the clothes on my back, I checked.”  
A cold silence followed while Walse climbed up into the creaking cart. “Get on,” he said at last, “The farther we are away from that damned city and the sooner we are in Manastash the better.”

Salvisa had never heard the name of the place, before, but that in itself was good enough for her. The wheels of the cart were beginning to turn. Salvisa crawled between the empty boxes that filled the back of the cart and hid underneath a battered tarp stretched over them. There, with only a few straws of moldering hay for comfort, she fell asleep.

She dreamed. In the dream, she thought at first she was on a snowy hillside at night. But when she walked towards a white city on the horizon she saw that the hills were covered in colorless grass, not snow, and knew that it wasn’t night, but some eternal darkness where there would never be a sun, moon, or stars. The darkness swallowed the whispers of her footsteps.

Salvisa awoke in a sweat. It wasn’t a bad dream, in the sense of her dreams where snow fell all around her and she was sure she would die once more. But she knew what her mind had seen wasn’t right, and worse, that the dream was not her own. She had been vaguely aware before falling asleep of the rhythmic grinding of cartwheels on un-oiled axles, and of the jarring motions of a rutted, stony road. That had stopped. The two men, Walse and Don, were talking again but whispered fearfully in words further muffled by her surroundings. The nag was stamping on the ground nervously. There was a third and fourth voice now, rough and loud. Salvisa reflexively reached for her sword. It was still at her side.

“You’ve one more chance.” The third said, his low tones rotted to tatters by a lifetime of harsh drink and shouting, “Get down and stand aside, or you’re both dead. Just as easy to me.”

Walse protested, but Salvisa was more focused on the two bandits. After sliding out off the back of the cart, she appraised her situation. The two bandits were at the front, the one doing all the threatening at Walse’s side with a sword pointed at the old man. It was noon, and the blade gleamed as sharply as a rusted butterknife. Good, Salvisa thought, doubting the bandit’s ability to do much more than crudely hack away in a fight. The other one was at the front of the cart, his arms crossed. A hand axe rested at his shoulder, and his eyes were on the more outgoing partner.

It was almost automatic for Salivisa to emerge, sword drawn, with all the might of Harmonian law burning in her eyes. She could see the shock in all four men’s eyes, but only paid mind to the two bandits.

“Leave.” She threatened. “Or by my honor I will kill you now.”  
“So, is this your ace, peasant?” The bandit swordsman laughed, “A weed of a girl?”  
He brandished is sword in what must of seemed a flourish in his mind, but was only clumsy in Salvisa’s eye. There would be no arguing with this lout. Salvisa lunged forward. The bandit missed her feint and caught his forearm on the flat of her blade, sending his dull steel clattering to the dirt. Only a glower was needed to warn off the bandit’s kinsman, who dropped his axe and raised his hands in surrender.  
“Leave, and tell your ‘friends’ that they will have no ransom while I am here” Salvisa commanded, “Or I can kill you now. The punishment for robbery is death, and I have sworn to uphold the law.”  
“We’ll go! We’ll go.” protested the bandit. He scrambled for his sword and then away from Walse and his defender. The second bandit followed quickly after.  
Salivsa turned back to Walse, who was staring at her incredulously. Her blood was still boiling, but she said as calmly as she could, “I would appreciate if you continue on.”  
“The Hell!” Walse retorted, “What do I owe you, you- Temple spy? Tax collector!? There’s nothing more we can give you. Nothing!”  
“You misunderstand- I only want you to take me as far as your village. From there I will find my own way.”  
“So!? We’ve nothing to give you first-class bastards. We’ve already given you more than we can spare for tax, and you’ve taken our children too. I don’t give a damn what show you put on, we don’t owe you nothing!”  
“I don’t ask anything,” Salvisa said, her voice becoming hard, “except to go as far as your village. I’ve made my own enemies in Harmonia, and I can’t go back.”  
Salvisa felt a twinge in her jaw goading her to cry, as her heart remembered what her mind was too busy to want to recall. Bram was still in Harmonia’s capital. Now that she had chosen her course, returning by her own will or against it meant one thing.  
“If I am found, I will be executed.” Salvisa bowed her head, “I was Temple Guard, but I don’t even know if I have committed a crime against the state except for having something they want. It is too much for me to ask for you to shelter a criminal, but I swear upon my sword and… and upon my Rune, that Salvisa Posthuma will repay her debt to your people. Eightfold.”  
Walse turned to Don, and back at Salvisa, “Get in. Mind, you, your words don’t mean shit to me. But we have a place west of the village that may keep you out of the rain.”  
Don whimpered something into Walse’s ear.  
“You are not.” Walse emphasized, “going to stay in the village. We’ve almost a week more on the road. You pay your own way.”  
Salvisa bowed deeply and sheathed her sword. “Thank you!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa is smuggled out of Crystal Valley on a long road towards a village she has never heard of. As her relationship with her new acquaintances gets of too a rocky start, Salvisa finds herself struggling to come to terms with the events of the last few days.

Salvisa climbed back aboard the cart, and for the rest of the day slept more than she dared admit. Walse had no interest in conversation, and Don seemed discouraged to start. Half her mind wanted to watch the endless fields and forests roll by, but the greater half was still beset with fatigue. Still, as she lay back in the cart, shielded from the sun by Walse’s canvas tarpaulin, she realized that even having had little to eat over the last hours her headache had lessened. At least someone, or something, Salvisa didn’t know which, seemed more at ease.

Walse stopped his cart shortly after dusk. What he called an inn, Salvisa would have called a shack. Cattle gathered on the ground floor. Their bodies and manure provided the greater portion of heat and fragrance to the inn. There wasn’t even enough room for both Walse and Don at the inn- the former took the only guest bed, leaving Don spare cushions and blankets on the floor. Salvisa suspected her humiliation was planned- for a few more potch than seemed necessary, she had to share the same hay as the cattle.

Still, the night was cold, and the barn was warm. Salvisa accepted her humiliation as punishment for betraying her superiors (but not, she told herself in protest, her country) and as the price for any trust Walse and Don could have to spare. By their faces and words, she guessed already that they were third-class citizens. They had no right to be anything to her but grateful for her service to them, and for the grace she gave them despite growing up with higher-born slaves at her beck and call. Then again, what was she now but nothing? Guilt gnawed at her for daring to invoke Harmonian law against the bandits. She’d abandoned her duties at the request of one Bishop, even as she had originally sought out the Rune of Change at the order of another. 

Why should she have even trusted that masked man? How much should his earnestness and the darkness of his warnings have shaken her, if she was truly faithful to her lords? Salvisa reached into the pocket of her coat, which she had draped across her like a blanket. The cold metal of the Bishop’s ring was still there. Salvisa pulled it out to look at by sputtering candle light. It was a signet with an official seal of the Bishopric, worked in blue and white agate and set in silver. Turning it over between her fingers, she could barely make out an engraving, the number “475”. Salvisa slipped the ring over her index finger and curled up in the sweet-smelling hay. She pulled her jacket over her shoulders, determined to somehow find rest between her head full of worries and stomach still too empty after a meager stew of mostly roots. Her sleep that night was deep and dreamless.

“Hey, lady.”  
Salvisa awoke the next morning to Don tapping at her shoulder. She sat up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Good Morning.” she said  
“My dad said to wake you up.” He said shyly, “And I wanna say thanks for last night.”  
“It was nothing. My apologies for hiding, I expected I would only hear the greeting I got anyway.”  
“Hehe,” Don laughed, “You don’t seem all that bad for first-class. Mind you, most people around here won’t wait to find out. There’s a few families who’ve lost near everyone to slavers.”  
So, they definitely were third-class citizens. Of all the luck, Salvisa thought. She arose, brushing hay off her clothes before joining Walse and Don for the next part of their journey.

“I don’t intend to burden you long. What else is near your village?” Salvisa said after a long period of silent rumination at the back of the cart.  
“There’s an old ruin on the nearby hill, but it’s only foundation really. We farm for the fort just up the river. All the forests around Manastash belong to the fort, and anyone caught in there’s likely to be hanged for poaching. Don’t know what else you would be interested in nearby. If you walk for a few days, the forest to the southeast is filled with sub-humans; you’d need to pass through there to get to the closest pass to Dunan. To the west is the Waste- no-good scrub until you get to the desert.”  
“Thank you. How many people are garrisoned at the fort?”  
“Three score, maybe three dozen of them soldiers.”  
“And the rest?”  
“Slaves, what the hell do you think?” Walse said. Salvisa could practically hear his eyes roll in disbelief. She found herself offended- slaves were always counted as property owned. No one would include chickens or cattle in the population of a village. For third-class citizens, the difference between a normal serf and a slave was like that between a stray dog and an owned one. Salvisa bit her tongue and kept silent. The conversation died.

The landscape changed slowly as the days went on, turning from flat valley land to foothills with the mountain range beyond looming ever taller in the distance. Salvisa thought about what she would do next to keep her Rune and herself safe with no luck finding a plan she felt confident in. She was still too embarrassed and angry to talk to or even listen to Walse and Don until they stopped to rest their horse. She went through her swordsmanship drills in a desperate effort to empty her mind and caught Don watching.  
“Have you used a sword before?” she asked  
Don shook his head, “Not allowed. You know that.”  
“That doesn’t mean you haven’t. And it’s not like I can turn you in.” Salvisa smiled, a little more grimly that she wanted  
“I’ll just watch. Even if we were allowed, we’d never be able to afford one.”  
“I understand.” Salvisa sighed, “I still owe the Temple Guard for my uniform and arms.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes. We are salaried, but also have to purchase everything we use. It’s not a problem for a rich family, or for senior officers, but I am neither. When we retire, whatever we still owe comes out of our pension. But that’s all moot for me now- I don’t know if the balance will go to my parents or my son.” A wave of sorrow overtook Salvisa, and she sagged under the weight of it. She wanted to hold Bram and know that he was safe, and was terrified at the thought that he would have more burdens to bear than the Rune and losing his only parent. The Bishops couldn’t be that cruel.  
“You have a son?” Don’s face lit up, catching the chance to move on to a new topic, but not Salvisa’s reaction.  
“Yes, Bram. He’s sixteen. Do you have children?” Salvisa tried to smile pleasantly, but it only made her cheeks pinch. To her horror, tears began welling up in her eyes.  
“My first is on the way, the midwife says by late spring. Hey, are you okay?”   
“I’m fine?” Salvisa’s voice cracked, and there was no strength to stop her tears from flowing left. She covered her face with one hand and waved Don away, “It’s just… I’m fine. Leave me alone.”  
Don stood stiffly like a startled deer, not sure what to do and more terrified of a woman’s tears than anything else.  
“If you say so.” he said at last. “We should probably get going again.”

Salvisa wanted to be invisible as she got back on the cart. She avoided looking at Walse and Don, and tried to stifle her sobs into choked hiccups. Over her own tears and the blood pulsing through her head, she could make out Walse hissing at Don, “What the hell did you do?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at the small, poor town of Manastash, Salvisa finds the welcome hardly hospitable. She spends the night exiled to a nearby hilltop, where she receives both warning and comfort from the mysterious Lady Leknaat.

They reached the village just at dusk, though travel had long been dark as the foothills were swallowed up more and more by trees. It was not unlike many that Salvisa had passed through, a cluster of thatched hovels with barely a window between them, ill-lit for want of lamp oil. She had never actually met the people unfortunate enough to call those sad shambles a home, and for that she felt a little pity. Even when in the soggiest tents in the field, Salvisa knew she had- used to have, she reminded herself- a warm bed to come home to, and a good meal to eat by lamplight. Walse and Don had that. It suddenly seemed unfair for serfs gracious enough to help her.

Walse instructed Don to take care of the horse, and asked Salvisa to sit on a stone outside.  
“As I said, you are not staying the night in Manastash.” Walse said, “Fortunately for me, I am the unofficial head here, so I get to decide that. But I’ll give you a last meal before you have to fend for yourself.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Flossie! A bowl for a guest!” Walse called into the window, “Before you leave, I want to tell me more about what’s got you all worked up and on the run. About this ‘Rune’ and theft nonsense.”

A woman around Walse’s age came out with a bowl of grey porridge. She looked at Salvisa with a wary sort of pity before going back into the house. Over her meal, Salvisa told Walse in careful terms about finding the True Rune, about the masked man’s warning, and her decision to flee.

“And that’s what happened. I have a Rune I don’t want and can’t give up, but it would be sacrilege to use it without the divine authority of a Bishop.” her last phrase came out quickly, by rote. The Temple Guard were drilled with the care that needed to be taken around the True Runes well before they had a chance to go out and seek them.  
“Why not?” Walse challenged  
“Well, it’s the power of a god. Only a priest can use it.”  
“Tch. You said yourself that just because something’s allowed doesn’t mean you can’t do it.”  
“You would question the words of the High Priest?” Salvisa asked in shock  
“Well, the Rune chose you right? Why’re you questioning a god’s decision?”  
“What!?”  
“Listen, lady, I don’t care how bad I make you feel when I say this: You’re stuck with what Fate gave you. We all are. But if you’re going to accept what you do have if you’re going to do ‘eightfold’ of anything.”  
Salvisa thought over his words in silence, angry again to be chided like that.  
“You better get moving before it’s completely dark. Like I said, go west of here” Walse pointed to a lonely hill that crouched like a monstrous black cat over the town. The sides were steep but terminated in a flat top. A thin path wound up and around to the top like a tail.  
“Right.” Salvisa sighed, putting down her licked-clean bowl and picking up her coat and capelet. She straightened up, saying by way of farewell, “I won’t forget my promise.”

Despite night falling as Salvisa approached the hillside path, she found the climb easy. There were no trees to shade the bright night sky. The moon only had a thin sliver peeled away. The hilltop was ringed by the remnants of walls and filled with grass. Salvisa spotted the tumbled stones that once guarded the inner ward. Salvisa found a likely place sheltered from the breeze and lay down. She didn’t want to fall asleep yet, and took off the ring again to look at.

Walse might be only a serf, and he might hate everything she was, but he might also be right. She hadn’t told him what the Rune had told her, whispering in every moment it could creep into her dreams and aimless thoughts. It was one half the Rune of Change; it was Decay. Salvisa feared that if she said that aloud, she would be considered too unlucky to be within miles. The Rune let her know what it could do, and promised wordlessly that if she would just open herself to it there would be so much more to gain. She wondered even how much it was able to guide her unconscious thoughts. 

“Let’s try this.” she said to the ring, slipping it back onto her finger and sitting up. “Now I want to.”

Calling upon the Rune’s magic was less an invocation and more an intention. Salvisa spied a bat fluttering across the moon in front of her and cast her will upon it. The soft glow of runic magic obscured her vision for a moment, and when it faded she could see the bat struggle to keep its wings in pace, then plummet to the ground. She went over to where it fell and studied the animal. It wheezed in the grass, every breath an effort. The poor thing, she thought, give it time and you’ll recover.

Salvisa waited for the bat to recover its strength and take back off into the night. She fell back into her spot by the wall, at last ready for the night to overtake her in sleep. Salvisa curled up against the cold, only to be interrupted by a bright glow behind her and the gentle hum of magic in the air.

“Who are you?” Salvisa rolled over, her hands on her sword and ready to draw it out of its sheath. There was a woman before her, a white-robed apparition. Her eyes were closed as if asleep, and her lips curved into a dreaming, comforting smile. Her long hair fell like a black waterfall behind her, parted evenly above the red third eye marked on her forehead.

“My name is Leknaat. You may be at ease, Salvisa, I only wish to bring you what I have seen.”  
Salvisa sat back, letting go of her sword.  
“I am an astrological magician, a seer. Your fate, Salvisa, shines bright among the stars. The path your star takes will be yours for the choosing, but it will not be your path alone. You will have many join you to change the flow of destiny.”  
“What are you talking about?” Salvisa asked, “What that masked bishop was telling me? Do you know?”  
“Yes,” Leknaat said. Salvisa could have sworn she smiled a little more, “The warning you were given was wholly true, though perhaps too light. Harmonia will not be the only nation that falls to the catastrophe seen by the True Runes.”  
“So you know him! Who is he, and when will he come, can’t you tell me?”  
“I cannot tell you, except his star also travels the sky, and will meet with you soon.”  
Salvisa thought hard, twisting the signet ring around her finger nervously. “I take it you’re going to leave me alone here, now you’ve told me this.”  
“Yes, I cannot sustain this magic for long anymore. One day, we may meet again. Until that time, seek out the others. No man can chart his destiny alone.”

Leknaat flickered and faded into nothingness, leaving Salvisa feeling even more alone than before. It was a long time before she fell asleep in the cold night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No sooner does Salvisa expect to be able to leave for Dunan, than she has a chance to begin repaying her debt to the men who helped her: The young serf Don is in danger and only Salvisa can help.

She awoke the next morning well past dawn with her stomach growling, and the distinct feeling of being filthy. Salvisa considered which to address first, and how. Bathing was simple, she would use the river that flowed by the ruins, cold as it might be. She didn’t dare beg for food in the village, and to steal from their fields would be more likely to lose her the meager protection she had. Poaching from the forest felt like a more viable option- it didn’t matter much anymore if the penalty was death. There would only be the matter of trapping an animal, for while she knew the efficacy of her Rune from last night, it also seemed frivolous to use it unless she came into real trouble. Fishing, provided there was anything worth catching, would be easier.

Salvisa went down to the pebbly riverside where she thought she could be reasonably private. After undoing her long blonde hair from its tight rings of braids, she ran into the water, gasping in shock at the temperature. She could see clouds of dirt drift off of her into the clear river water, and realized for the first time that she had been caked with dirt ever since her first night on the run. She remembered mud and ditch water splashing up and soaking into her boots, of tripping and falling at least once in the fields. Salvisa dipped into the frigid water to wash her hair, and scrubbed herself as well as she could. 

When she finished, Salvisa caught some small fish in the shallows and set them up to cook. The smell made her mouth water, and she could barely wait for the meat to cool before biting in.  
She climbed the hill one more time to survey the landscape now that the morning mists had lifted from the countryside. The wooden fortress erupted from the land like a sore, about half a day’s travel from the village. It was becoming busy there, but not unusually so. She would go to Dunan, Salvisa thought. If she had to seek friends, that would be the best place. The subhumans she might encounter on the way would be no matter, whether they were as chilly as the third-class citizens of Manastash or completely hostile.

Salvisa walked down to the small road that passed through the village with a renewed sense of purpose. She looked forward to being out of Harmonia, as much as she hoped she would not have to be gone for long.

“Salvisa, wait!”

Salvisa stopped and turned around to see Walse running up to her. She was so used to him being stoic, she was surprised to see fear in his dark, darting eyes.

“You promised, eight-fold, right? I need it now. Don went into the forest this morning with one of his friends and hasn’t come back. He’s being held for ransom by thugs, and there’s not a thousand potch in the province to be found before dusk.”  
“Why don’t you go to the guard?”  
“They won’t do anything for us. We’re ‘not worth their time.’”  
Salvisa considered. She desperately wanted to leave for safer land. But there was the matter of her oath, and what she could do to fulfill it now.  
“Right. I’ll need someone to guide, and as much as you know about these bandits.”

There not much to learn. The outlaws, about half a dozen of them, had made their camp in the forest and caught Don and his friend while they were “looking for firewood”, as Salvisa was told. She suspected there was a little more interest to the story than that. Her guide, Don’s wiry and tanned friend Lop “the Ferret”, was more than able to snake his way through the forest with hardly a whisper of sound. Salvisa followed, wearing her military coat again in hopes it would give her an authoritative edge in dealing with the criminals.

The camp wasn’t very far from the village. Salvisa counted four at the camp, including Don. Two of the criminals relaxed by a wooden lean-to rudely stocked with spoils and worn-out tools and weapons of their trade. One gave Salvisa the impression of a shaved rat, though not nearly so clever, and the second may have sacrificed his chin for being well-built everywhere else. The third, a stocky and swarthy man about Salvisa’s height, stood by Don, trying to ignore him. Don himself was restrained at the bottom of a tree, hissing and spitting at the brigand watching over him. The others were lazing about, no doubt waiting for their ransom to come in. Don noticed the two in the brush, but at his friend’s sign began ignoring them and harassing his captor even more spiritedly.

Salvisa fell to the forest floor and crawled by inches on her belly until she was behind Don and his captor. On cue, her companion emerged from the woods. All the bandits turned towards him, expectant. Salvisa slipped Don the knife hidden in her boot. She had her own and her sword still strapped to her.

“So, you’ve got the money already?” asked Rat-Face  
“Not a potch.” shrugged Lop  
“Ha! You’re a lousy friend, aren’t you? We’ll just have to kill you both now.”

The stocky brigand in front of Salvisa didn’t even have his hand on his knife before Salvisa erupted off of the ground and had her own short blade dug deeply into his back. There was only a brief gasp as he collapsed into Salvisa’s arms, which guided him quietly to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, Salvisa saw Don finally cut free from the coarse ropes that had tied him.  
Salvisa’s hand had already drawn her sword, and her soft boots had already taken her several steps closer to the two other bandits when Rat-Face turned to goad on his friend, and instead saw a stranger’s lean, female figure in white and cobalt bearing down on him and his partner crumpled among fallen leaves.

“Gods!” He cried out in terror, “But we had a deal!”

“Really, a deal?” Salvisa asked with mocking sweetness, “I don’t remember that at all. Do tell me about this ‘deal’.”  
Chinless had been threatening the other boy, but now stopped chasing him and turned to Salvisa instead.  
“Come on, don’t lie!” Rat-Face whined.   
Salvisa smiled inwardly- he hadn’t called her bluff, and couldn’t even tell Temple Guard from regulars by uniform. These men had barely enough brains to be called thugs.  
“Don’t lie, we’ve been paying up like you said, every month. We only got that one traveler in self defense, honest. Please…”  
Rat-Face was groveling whole-heartedly now. Salvisa could almost taste the disgust she felt watching him and piecing together that not only was the guard not bringing justice, it was actively cutting deals with these worms. Her blood boiled at the thought.  
“Your problem is, you didn’t make that deal with me.” Salvisa said flatly

She subtly ground in her stance, sensing a change in Rat-Face’s bearing. He was doomed and knew it. He sprung at her, a knife in hand. Salvisa’s sword caught him across the hand and sent the knife flying before a second stroke caught him across the stomach. Rat-Face fell to his knees, screeching his pain in every foul word he knew. The last outlaw turned to flee but was tackled and cut down from behind by the wiry boy like an animal.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After rescuing a young man from bandits, Salvisa must decide if she will join a protest against the corrupt guardsman who govern the small town sheltering her.

Salvisa turned back to Don. He was ashen-faced.  
“Are you all right?” She asked as she checked him over for injuries. He was raw to bleeding around the wrists from the ropes that held him, and had a few bruises too old to be from his capture.  
“You killed them.” He said, in surprise rather than accusation  
“Yes. They should have had their warning from the brigands we met on the road- I recognized the sword one of them had by the shelter.”  
“I’ve never seen a person killed.”  
“Good,” Salvisa frowned slightly, “Someone who isn’t bothered by killing another should be feared or pitied. Or both.”  
“And you?”  
“I regret every time. Let’s get you home. Did they take anything from you?”

Don nodded. When Salvisa turned back to Lop he was already rooting through the piles of trash and booty for anything useful. The first thing he pulled out was a string of small game, and with that now at his feet he picked more casually through the rest.

“It’s mine. You have a problem?” Lop asked, noticing Salvisa had her eyes on the pile of fur in the leaves.  
“Not with anything I see.”

Salivsa shrugged. Perhaps it was because she never had any estate of her own, or because she had spent many years scouting through wildernesses with no known owner, but she could never sit well with beasts in the wild being “owned”. Thankfully for Salvisa, the enforcement of Harmonian law was to her discretion, and her principal duty was to carry out the special assignments of the Temple.

The three made short work the contents of the lean-to. Anything worth carrying, from food to coins to goods, was easily carried in hand back to Manastash. The dead brigands were left where they fell, as a warning to their comrades.

Walse welcomed his son back with a slap across the face that knocked Don off balance and a bear hug. “I told you you’d get in trouble if you kept going into the forest.” He admonished, “Thanks, Salvisa. Was it much trouble?”  
Salvisa shook her head, “No. I’ve had to remove outlaws before, and much more skilled than these.”  
“Huh.” Walse grunted, “How ‘removed’ are they?”  
“Three are dead. The brigands we met on the road would have joined them, but they were not present. There is another thing, Walse. One of them mentioned that they had a deal with the guard. It sounded like the guard is either accepting or extorting money to turn a blind eye.”  
“And I thought the guard were thieves before…By the way, you and Lop are welcome to dinner with us tonight.”

Walse’s offer still left all the afternoon. While Don helped his father in the fields, Lop had no such obligation. While Salvisa helped him clean and dress the morning’s game, they came to an agreement that if Lop would show her the best paths through the forest, she would teach him what more she knew of scouting. He was an unnervingly quick learner- given a few more years’ experience, and different circumstances, Salvisa would have been terrified of him.

When evening fell, Salvisa finally had the opportunity to enter Walse’s home. It was dim and smokey, but still smelled like home. Finding a seat on the floor by the cooking fire put her knees against Flossie’s right and Lop’s left. Walse’s insistence that she not stay in his house may have had as much of a practical reason as a personal one.

Don’s wife, Linde, served a livelier stew than Salvisa had come to expect. It even had meat in it, the first that she had tasted in days. Salvisa joined her hosts in savoring the food as if it was from a priestly banquet.

“That’s a very pretty ring you have.” Linde commented, “Do you have someone waiting for you in Crystal Valley?”  
“It’s more that I’m waiting for him.” Salvisa said, blushing.   
“He must be very handsome. What’s his name?”  
Salvisa laughed, “I don’t know!”  
“But Don said you had a son?”  
“Yes, yes. I do have a son, Bram. The man who gave me this ring helped me escape the Temple, but I don’t know him otherwise.”   
“I hope you can be reunited soon.” Linde said earnestly.  
“Mmm. Though right now, I’d hate to put more people in danger than I already have.”  
“Speaking of,” Walse interrupted, “I met with most of the other villagers in the fields today. We want to make a formal complaint to the captain of the guard. Are you interested in coming if things go badly?”  
“I’m flattered.” Salvisa said with a note of sarcasm.  
“Don’t be. You’re able, that’s all. If you know where your loyalties lie, you can refuse just as well.”  
Salvisa didn’t need long to think before she nodded in agreement. “How many others? You said at least twenty soldiers.”  
“There’s me and Flossie, and around ten other village men are free.” Walse said. He looked grim with Salvisa reminding him of the odds. Salvisa frowned, thinking that at least it would be a dozen in one place against something less, but also that it was trained fighters against lifelong farmers.  
“I’m going too.” Lop added emphatically.  
“You sound confident that people will get hurt.” Salvisa countered Walse, hoping to dissuade Lop, “Is there enough medicine in the village? Can you even afford to lose more people, and suffer retaliation from the military?”  
“Right now, we can’t afford anything. Least of all to allow those bastards to abuse us as they do. Haven’t you seen this village? We’ve lost everything because they won’t forgive a single potch in tax- we’ve no more livestock, there’s never enough grain, and we have nothing else they take our children into debt bondage.”  
Walse was shaking, his hairy fists white-knuckled with fury. Flossie wrapped her husband in a gentle embrace that did nothing to calm him. Her expression was one of bitter sorrow, but one she could no longer weep for. Salvisa needed no more convincing.  
“I will go with you. When will you make your case?”  
“We’ll meet the bastards tomorrow morning.” Walse said, still shaking, “Bring your sword with you to meet us here tomorrow morning.”  
“I only have one request.” Salvisa said, rising to her feet, “If there are any spare clothes, I would like to borrow them. I don’t think I can risk wearing what I have. If you have a head scarf too…”  
Salvisa self-consciously ran her fingers through her fine blonde hair. A second-class merchant might have been able to afford the food that nourished her height and lithe muscles. Even some subhumans lucked into having clear blue eyes. But it was almost unheard of for anyone but the carefully bred first-class citizens of Harmonia to have both those attributes and hair the color of honey. Among the people of the village, she would stand out like a sunbeam in a landscape of dirt and soot. If word had yet reached Manastash from Crystal Valley of her escape, who to arrest would be obvious.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa leaves to spend the night on a hilltop and Lop follows with motives of his own. Once she is alone, she discovers an ancient secret below the ground in Manastash and reunites with an old friend.

Salvisa excused herself, thanking Walse and his family for their hospitality. To her surprise, Lop followed. A question formed in her head, one she wished she would have asked Walse.  
“Why didn’t the soldiers build on this hill?” She asked, pointing into the darkness ahead of her, “It’s much more defensible than by the river.”  
“You didn’t know? It’s haunted.” Lop said. Salvisa suddenly was angry and glad she didn’t ask earlier.  
“Really? By what?”  
“I ‘unno. You can hear moaning most nights, and even in summer it’s cold up there. Wisewoman Erda says the dead go there to dance.”  
“Then maybe it was a ghost I saw last night.”  
“Really!? And you weren’t scared?”  
“No, she was very kind. It’s late. Don’t you have a family to go home to?”  
Salvisa looked behind her to see Lop shrug, “Nah, they’re dead.” He did it with the same nonchalance as if he was saying it wasn’t cold enough to wear a jacket. “After my mother died at the fort, my father drowned himself in the river. But-”

Lop grabbed Salvisa’s hand. His grip was so thin and bony it felt rougher than it was. By now the two had reached the top of the hill, and Salvisa could hear the low moaning Lop had spoken about lurking beneath temperamental gusts of wind. 

“But you’ll stay, right, Salvisa?”  
Lop squeezed her hand tighter, and Salvisa pulled away. She was disgusted at his gall and how quickly he moved from disinterest to suggestiveness in his speech. She massaged her hand to rid it of the memory of Lop’s touch. Salvisa’s eyes narrowed and her mouth curled in rage when she realized what happened.

“Give me my ring back!” Salvisa shouted. She reached to grab it out of Lop’s hand but he was nimbler and held it away.   
“Show me what your Rune can do and I’ll give it back.”  
“Don’t. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Already Salvisa’s mind was filling with whispers and phantoms from the Rune. Even if she had seen them all before, it still drover her sick to distraction. She could almost smell the decay the Rune presented her with. Salt-scorched fields, desiccated half-corpses, white putrid flesh, blackened gangrenous limbs- every time she dove at Lop or struck out at him, she felt the urge to vomit. In her frustration, she realized in a start that she was beginning to lose sight of the boundary between her own thoughts and the wicked visions of the Rune of Decay.

Lop goaded Salvisa on mercilessly, the devilish smile of a child on his face as he evaded her every move. “I thought he wasn’t your boyfriend?” “You must have been a shit soldier that you can’t catch a serf!” “You must be lying about your rune if you won’t show me!” “Why don’t you give me a kiss instead?” “Come on, I just want to see some magic!”

Salvisa made a desperate lunge and tackled Lop to the ground, pinning him.  
“Give me back my ring and go home, you ass.” Salvisa growled at the boy, struggling like a wildcat beneath her.  
Lop spat in her face and managed break free, despite Salvisa’s advantage in height and weight.  
“I said,” Lop replied in a sing song voice, holding the ring aloft, “You have to show me what your Rune does first.”  
“Fine.” 

If that was what he wanted, Salvisa thought, he would get it. Perhaps it won’t be a waste if it teaches the brat a lesson- he certainly seems eager to learn.

Salvisa focused the power of the Rune in her mind, and its light stripped the hilltop of its smooth blanket of night and rent it with shadows. Lop was smiling broadly until the first claws of magic sunk into him. The grin faded as Salvisa sapped his muscles of their strength, but Lop’s eyes still glittered with excitement under the magical light.

The boy’s strength leaked out of him slowly, so that by the time the mischievous glitter was shaded by half-closed eyes he could barely shuffle his feet through the grass. His fingers could no longer maintain the pinch grip he had on the ring and it tumbled to the ground like a shooting star before Lop himself collapsed like a ragdoll. Seething as she was with anger, Salvisa still ran forward to catch the boy. His body heavy and limp as a corpse’s, Lop’s breathing was shallow and it was a struggle for him to even keep his eyes open  
“If I wanted to right now, it wouldn’t be more than a wish and you wouldn’t have the strength to keep your own heart beating.” Salvisa threatened darkly, “Are you happy, Lop? If you tell anyone what just happened or cross me again, I will rot your face off.”

Salvisa dumped Lop on the ground unceremoniously and found her ring in the darkness with all the discretion she could muster. Despite her relief to have it back, she waited with it hidden under her boot until Lop recovered enough to arise and limp off into the night. Alone once more, Salvisa reached to pick up the dear piece of silver. Her hands were shaking from the fight, and what she had just done, and Salvisa fumbled. The ring disappeared between the grass runners.

It disappeared with a clink, barely audible above the wind, followed by a second, even fainter.

Salvisa ripped at the grasses and found that they were entwined around a metal grate. It was ancient, thick, and battered by the elements, but still strong. There wasn’t even a hint of grit against her hands from rust.

It took a while to clear enough away for Salvisa to be able to move the heavy grate aside. Underneath it she could see the outline of stone steps, covered in debris. The old hinges, she found, were slow but not stuck. It took all of Salvisa’s strength to pull up the free end and push it into the grass. She shook out her sore fingers and reached into a pocket in her coat. She only had a few for emergencies, but this was as good a time as ever to use one of her scrolls.

Salvisa pulled out a small slip of paper about the width of her thumb and three times as long, and carefully inscribed with the appropriate seals to entrap runic power within it. She ripped in half, leaving one piece to fall to the ground. The other sputtered to life, burning with a heatless magnesium-white flame. 

The steps lead straight down to a rectangular antechamber about the size of Walse’s house, though higher-ceilinged by half. The floor had a chance of being somewhat cleaner, caked as it was by unknown years of dirt and debris. The room was plain, and the walls cut so cleanly into the rock they might have been constructed by under the same exacting architect as the Crystal Palace. Ahead of Salvisa was a broad archway flanked by two empty iron braziers that lead to more stairs plunging into the depths of the hillside. A large millstone that must have served as a door had been left aside in a carved pocket.

The sight at the bottom of the second stair took Salvisa’s breath away. She was in a grand hall. Beautiful, rotting murals decorated walls extending so far up the light of her scroll was devoured by darkness. Above a forest painted between uncounted doorways, hunters, nobles, priests, and every sort of animal peeled away. They seemed to be hiding behind an advancing mist.

But for all the lingering beauty, it was clear that this castle, this city, had both lived and died underground. Every room that Salvisa explored was littered with mouldring cloth and rotting wood, dry enough to last who knows how many years but with none of the desert dryness needed to remain untouched. Salvisa had already explored meeting rooms, apartments, and larders when there was something more than the memories of the dead to catch her attention.

“Salvisa!?” She heard a voice call in the distance. It wasn’t one of the voices she knew from the village, few as they were, but it was still familiar, “Is that you here?”

Salvisa turned around and left the lonely chamber she entered. From the main chamber, she could see a like flame in the darkness- magnesium white and brighter than an oil lamp.

“Yes!?” Salvisa cried out, running towards the light. It was then she saw her fellow explorer. Tears blinded her eyes as she ran up to him. “Oh, Corbin, I thought I’d never see you again!”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa, now reunited with Corbin, learns what has come of the rest of her team. The next morning she joins the serfs of Manastash as they confront the corrupt soldiers of the local fort. What starts as a peaceful request for justice ends with the tinderbox of Manastash's troubles being set aflame.

Salvisa hugged Corbin tightly

“Captain!” He gasped  
“How did you find me?” Salvisa asked, letting Corbin free. She couldn’t smile any broader. Out of nothing, she had found a friend by her side.  
“Haha, well…” Corbin scratched his head, and became serious, “When I heard that you fled… I, I had to come. I didn’t know where to begin searching, so I chose at random- and then I saw a light.”  
Salvisa nodded. It had to have been the light from her Rune. “You ran fast then.”  
“It’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”  
Both of them laughed lightly. Corbin had come of age in a family of means, and as such had his choice of runes to bear, had he any desire for them. Corbin chose one that granted him the speed and stamina to boast he was the fastest in Harmonia. He was banned from any official races on account of the rune, but Salvisa was prepared to swear she would not know anyone who could move as swiftly as Corbin with all the skillful stealth of a Temple Guard member.  
“And the others?” Salvisa asked  
“I’m sorry. Ravenna’s been recalled to the Howling Voice Guild. McKee didn’t dare. I haven’t seen Bram since we’ve returned.”  
“I understand.” Salvisa said, “I don’t know how late it is- I’ve promised to meet with the villagers at dawn. You must need sleep too, and I’m sure here is as good a place as any. At least it’s warmer and out of the wind.”  
“Why do you need to meet with them?” Corbin asked, and when Salvisa told him her story he responded with disdain, “But that’s their right isn’t it? I mean, say someone’s paying me to use my property. So long as they don’t destroy it, that’s no problem.”  
Suddenly, Salvisa felt red-faced for hosting such ridiculous thoughts. She stammered, “Well, this is different. You don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”  
“Don’t think I will.” Corbin said and yawned, “I trust you can take yourself tomorrow, so I’ll just hold down the fort tomorrow.”  
“Thanks.” Salvisa smiled again, happy for the company and for Corbin’s confidence. 

Corbin and Salvisa bedded down in one of the many rooms that mouldered away underground. With the unexpected joy of having a friend at her side at last, Salvisa found her ruminating equally light. She was tired of rot filling her mind, and paced through what good might come of decay. Could she reduce a fever, for instance? Or denature poison and soothe pain with a thought? Would she be able to turn a forest into a fertile, rootless field in an instant, and blett persimmons and turn grapes into sweet wine even faster? The Rune of Decay was obstinately silent.

When the next morning arose, Salvisa was as glad to not be glazed with the same frost that covered the grass outside the underground city as she was to be free from the musty air underground. She was not the first to make it to Walse’s house. Flossie thrust a bundle of faded and patched fabric into Salvisa’s arms. Salvisa changed into the new clothes immediately and without shame in front of the village men. The headscarf fit well enough, but that was it. Even with how shapeless the peasant clothes were, Salvisa felt the rust-colored fabric bind across her broad shoulders and billow over Salvisa’s small breasts, while the skirts clearly belonged to a woman with surprisingly broad hips and a petite frame. 

Flossie tutted, “Well, you certainly aren’t the girl my Freia was.”

Salvisa pulled a pin from her uniform and secured the skirts so that they would at least stay up. There was nothing to be done about the length, which was both unflattering and unfashionable even for serfs. Flossie’s use of the past tense piqued Salvisa’s interest but left her too shy to ask more. No one in the family had hinted at another member, though Salvisa recalled Walse’s irrepressable anger the previous night. Flossie noticed Salvisa’s expression.

“The last harvest was poor. We draw lots so no one needs to volunteer, and Freia and the miller’s son went to the fort. I believe the boy was sold elsewhere almost immediately; Freia was a maid for a time, but we haven’t seen her since or heard anything for some months. Ah, there’s Lop. I think that’s everyone.”

Lop had arrived late, and his face grew a little pale and hollow when he saw Salvisa. She avoided looking at him and pointedly buckled her sword about her waist. Then she didn’t see anyone else with more than their personal knives.

“Are you sure I should bring my sword?” Salvisa asked, “Yesterday it sounded like you all but expected trouble.”  
“Yes.” Answered Flossie, “It might be better if we look serious, but we can’t look mad. Right, Walse?”  
Walse nodded.  
“In any case, I do have the village’s rune.” Flossie held out her hand and showed Salvisa the tracery of a common wind rune on her tanned and calloused hand, “And yours, gods forbid we must call on them.”

The procession to the fort was a grim one. Walse led, though Flossie had hinted, “He only leads because he’s married to the wisewoman’s daughter”, and Salvisa struggled to find time to get a word in edgewise between Walse’s talk with the other village men. There were more women than Flossie and Salvisa, and there were more men in the group than Walse’s first count as well. Salvisa couldn’t be sure how many were left caring for the fields today.

“I heard last night that the hill was haunted.” Salvisa said.  
“Ah yes, my mother said that it scared even the soldiers when they came down here to keep down a rebellion. Walse hoped it would do you the same.” Flossie smiled, “I won that bet. Did you see anything?”  
“There was a lady, with long black hair and white robes. Last night I could hear the whole hill moaning.”  
“And you weren’t scared?”  
“I don’t think the lady was a ghost- she said she was a seer, and gave me some advice before she needed to go. And for last night- did you know anything about the hill being carved out?”  
“It’s where the dead go.” Flossie shook her head, “It might have a passage to the underworld.”  
“Not like that- literally carved out. I found a stair last night.”  
Salvisa told Flossie about the underground city, but she and the other serfs listening in were incredulous.

“I can show you when we get back from the fort.” Salvisa insisted.  
“I will check with my mother, it may not be auspicious.”  
Salvisa sized up the fort as the group passed through the open wooden gates. Only the keep was made of stone, and even that was partial and littered with construction materials. Salvisa estimated several years of slow labor had been put in so far to make a building constructed in hasty necessity into a permanent imposition on the landscape. Even so, the massive walls of wood and earth loomed brutally over Salvisa and the serfs. It was the people, Salvisa thought, not the fort. In all her years with the Temple Guard, she had known grander and crueler fortifications that never felt so repressive. Those places, with their murder holes, killing fields, and oubliettes, were not staffed with slaves so haggard and cowed as at Manastash. The slaves gave no acknowledgement of the other third-class citizens, though Salvisa caught their furtive glances. They were as unwillingly afraid of everything as they were deliberative in seeing nothing. Salvisa thought again about her conversation with Corbin last night- It may have been the soldier’s’ right, but this was different.

The soldiers that the group passed regarded Salvisa and the serfs with distaste all the way until they stopped in the great hall of the keep. No expense had been spared in decorating the new stone walls. Oil lamps lit every corner and thick but plain tapestries kept the hall warm. The effect was familiar but not comforting to Salvisa. It reminded her of a childhood where she knew that her family’s estate changed faster with aristocratic fashion than with the seasons. It was a gilt upbringing- for every party thrown to the latest tastes and highest luxuries, there was another argument about finding a husband willing to stoop to her sisters’ dowries. Salvisa never learned whether her parents mortgaged their land and their serfs’ lives as heavily as these soldiers. She was young, and then she was disappeared into the ranks of the Temple Guard.

The captain of the guard strode in, full of pride and a burning twitchiness to get on with matters more worthwhile. The very figure of a handsome Harmonian man, his uniform was crisp and well cut, and his chin so freshly shaved it was still pink. “Well?” He said, taking his seat at the carved oak tabled that served as the hall’s focal point.

Walse cleared his throat, “We want to voice complaints we have had with our recent governance.”  
Walse talked at length with a history far longer than the latest burden of taxes or the apparent deal with bandits in the province. The captain made every motion of having heard each word carefully volunteered by Walse and supplemented by the other peasants, but Salvisa could tell no matter what he heard, the captain had long ago made up his mind to not listen.

“And?” The captain said at last.  
“We can’t go on, my lord. If you can’t give us some concessions for at least this winter, we’ll have no choice but to take more drastic action.”  
The captain laughed, a deep and hearty sound than echoed in the hall. “I don’t think you are any position to bargain.”  
An aide rushed in and whispered words lost between the captain’s ear and the expanse of the hall.  
“Fire? Take care of it- and send for the rest to come here while you’re at it.” The captain instructed, and the aide ran off even more quickly. “This wouldn’t be your doing, would it?” He asked, smooth as ipecac.  
“What? No!” Walse protested.  
“We both know my slaves and my serfs talk. I find it difficult to believe that you would try making demands again without anything behind them. This fire seems like too much of a coincidence.”  
Walse struggled to keep his composure under the guard’s accusation, “We’re trying to do this right.”  
“And yet you have a sword with you. Woman, where did you get that?” The captain looked at Salvisa.  
“I purchased it, sir.”  
“You’re not from around here, either.” The captain frowned, trying to place Salvisa’s accent. “You better have license or... Never mind. Walse, I will make this offer to you: Take your people and help put out the fire, and for this once I will forgive the damages if you do not come here again. I may even allow a small amount of this winter’s taxes to slide.”  
Walse consulted with the other serfs, and sagged along with them when fear swallowed up the indignation that carried them to the fort. His response to the captain of the guard was barely intelligible.  
The group filtered out of the hall in relative haste, knowing that on top of their disappointment was the threat that every minute wasted was a meal less to take them through the winter. As the peasants left, guards trickled into the hall until nearly the full company lined the walls.  
“Woman, you with the sword, you stay here.” The captain called out. Salvisa stopped in her tracks, and both Flossie and Walse did as well.  
“Was I talking to you dogs?” The captain asked loudly, and Salvisa shortly found herself alone. The heavy, iron-reinforced doors swung shut and were barred by thick beams shoved into black iron brackets by grim-faced soldiers.  
Salvisa let her breath hiss through clenched jaws. She had no time for games, and every warning bell in her head rang out to the beat of her racing pulse. The Rune, hidden beneath her headscarf, burned and roiled.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa is trapped and surrounded by enemy soldiers, and soon left with no choice but to fight her way out.

“I have on good word,” the captain announced to everyone present, “that three citizens in my care were found dead with sword wounds and their belongings stolen. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?”  
“I passed some fellows who said very clearly that the local guard enjoyed some amount of racketeering, but I didn’t stick around. I did think it would be interesting to see what the Temple Guard’s Inquisitorial arm would think of this news.” Salvisa said. It was wholly an empty threat now, but if it weren’t for the events of the last few days she would have followed through on it with righteous fervor.  
The captain of the guard smiled, “Of course. But you are a long way from the capital. Do you have your travel documents, woman?”  
“No.”   
“Identification?”  
Salvisa shook her head firmly. Any formal identification she had was with her uniform, and now that she remembered she would burn it the next chance she had. It wouldn’t matter if that would reduce her assumed status to a runaway slave and subject to all the lack of protection it entailed. She would still have a better chance than as an identified wanted criminal.

“Pity.” said the man. “Well, I’m sure you know that you know that travelling without identification, without your master’s permission, and bearing a weapon are criminal offenses. Now you can make it easy,” -There was that ipecac voice again- “And after your interrogation your master can pick his goods up with minimal damage.”

Salvisa was familiar with the interrogation the guard captain was referencing, and had touched on the wide body of literature that supported its use. Harmonian scholars widely believed that the truth could only be extracted from a third-class citizen through the application of enough physical and mental force to break through his innate tendency towards trickery and draw out reality from a feeble mind and its undeveloped senses. Salvisa’s skin pricked all over at the thought. Her late husband had such fame for his skill he could draw out a confession merely by being in the same room. At the rare time Auxier needed or chose to take real action, his work was almost art. Salvisa didn’t judge the soldier in front of her now to be interested in or capable of the level of skill she had known from her husband. At best she could hope for a mere beating, more likely she would get brutal mutilation.

“My master wouldn’t be worth your effort.” Salvisa said, “Perhaps you would be more keen to save your time on questioning and to direct my skills instead?”  
Salvisa saw a collective grin spread throughout the hall, and the captain leaned on the table, tenting his fingers thoughtfully. His sleeve cuff shifted by the gesture, Salvisa could see the delicate light of a rune on his left hand. 

“There is a thought. But I have many bodies around to help as is. I will have to insist on questioning you. You see, I have enough information to place you here in the last few days, and there is a very good bounty for a young woman who is a fugitive of the state. She’s been sighted heading this direction. You women talk, and you mingle well for a stranger. You’re going to tell me everything you know. Hand me your sword and we’ll get started.”

Salvisa hoped her shock and fear were stifled and invisible, but her veins felt so filled with ice she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t know if she had been betrayed by some peasant of Manastash, or the surviving bandits, the innkeepers from her nights on the road, or even someone she never noticed in the fields. Her Rune fed her fear, calling out nightmarish threats against herself and the soldiers.  
Salvisa was nearly shivering as she laid her hand on her sword and drew it out. That collective grin turned into a laugh at the paltriness of this threat, one woman against so many more. 

“No.” Salvisa said, and exhaled all her stress and worry into a centering breath as she sank into a combat stance. This would not be her end, she promised herself, but if it would be her blood would mingle with that of everyone in the hall. She would not be taken alive.  
“’No?’ Cute.” The captain said, his face flashing only brief disappointment, “All right men; take her down. We don’t need her alive.”

The captain produced a familiar object, an orb of smoked glass ornately capped at the ends with silver. She knew they were heavy from experience, and balanced strangely with liquid was able to hold the power of a True Rune. The man held this orb with near reverence, waiting patiently to learn if he would get the chance to hold the power of a god between his hands. The other guards bore down on Salvisa like attack hounds set loose.

It was easier for Salvisa to think it was not over twenty on one, but only the few that could come in at once without fearing that they hurt their compatriots as much as their foe. Even with her years of drills and training with the Temple Guard, the mental effort of the fight was exhausting. At the once, Salvisa needed to avoid four blades while cutting down one. Her sword was knocked out of her hand by yet another, forcing Salvisa to counter with short knife and a whirlwind of physical blows of naked hands against armored bodies bearing full lengths of hardened steel.

Salvisa found a sword back in her hands- it had to have been some guardsman’s cheaper blade, for the balance was mediocre compared to her own, and left two more with their intestines spilling onto the flagstones. With what little focus she had to spare, Salvisa caught men trying to escape. Their captain was shouting them as he should have, but his words were moot underneath the pulse of blood in Salvisa’s temples.   
Another soldier, barely a boy, cursed as Salvisa ran him through. Salvisa felt the sudden fire of her own shoulder falling victim to her adversaries, but the pain swelled within her as energy rather than defeat. She would not fall. The blond curls of the one who dared violate her body became flecked with blood as soon as Salvisa turned around, and one more fell down crying out for his mother in agony.

Then came a surge of heat that blackened Salvisa and everyone around her. She spared a look towards where her Rune directed her sense of revenge, and saw the captain of the guard with his eyes full of fear and his left arm raised high above his head. In a moment that frightened her, Salvisa lost control of her Rune and saw the captain’s whole arm wither. Once he had firm, pale skin stretched across forearms used to endless drills with the sword and more than familiar with how to beat a man to within an inch of his life with a whip or rod. That skin shrivelled and mummified before Salvisa’s horrified eyes. The captain’s browned and dried out flesh fell to the ground and the rune it used to bear erupted out of the dead skin like an excised cyst before clinking across the stone floor.

But the damage from the captain’s spell had already been done. The flames that scorched Salvisa and his own men also set the tapestries and the barred doors, iron-clad as they were, ablaze. Salvisa took the mens’ pain as an opportunity to remove them from their misery even as her sword felt too hot to hold and her burned nerves loudly resisted any attempt to move. 

“Are you happy?” Salvisa shouted, her lungs hoarse with smoke, “Am I ‘cute’ now?”  
More soldiers attempted to break away from the flaming melee- Salvisa cut them down with all the coldness her training had taught her. Salvisa walked towards the captain, who now, helpless, cowered against the far wall. She slipped slightly on the wet flagstone floor, but caught her balance with her jaw still firmly set.

“Are you happy!?” Salvisa asked again. She was in front of the captain of the guard now. He was a crumpled mess before her. The golden light of burning oil and tapestry fled in front of the cold and awful residual magic of a True Rune blazing from Salvisa’s forehead. The captain was pale in that light. He was weak and frightened. He looked at Salvisa with eyes so wide his blue irises were comically small, and his pupils mere pinpricks in contrast to the bulging veins in his neck that yet struggled to feed consciousness to his brain. When Salvisa pointed the tip of her blade at him, staining his navy coat with drips of blood, the captain’s body seized with fear and his soul fled his ruined corpse.

Salvisa left the captain, and the soldiers she was sure would succumb soon enough. Crushing the rune vessel underfoot, she found her own sword on the filthy flagstones and bolted through the fallen coals that were all that remained of the doors to the great hall in Manastash. She had more to attend to.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having slain the Harmonian guards that threatened to steal the Rune of Decay and her life, Salvisa now must brave another fire that blazes at the fort. To save the people within presents her fiercest challenge yet, and to succeed means paying a steep price.

The sky outside only had a few stray wisps of clouds, but the smoke and noise that filled the fort marred the morning’s natural beauty. Salvisa ran over to a mob of village serfs and former slaves of the fort trying to fight the fire, but losing for want of enough vessels to carry water down the bucket brigade. Salvisa spotted Lop emerge from the kitchens.   
The boy coughed hard as he ran to the head of the line where Walse waited for the next bucket of water.  
“I can’t get them out.” Lop said, “They’ve been chained up.”  
“What’s happened?” Salvisa interrupted.  
“Salvisa!” Walse exclaimed. She was a sight, covered in blood that was mostly not her own, and her clothes nicked and tattered by close calls. Walse almost had trouble recognizing her. “There’s people trapped in the kitchen. Flossie says she can snuff out the flames with her rune, but she’s worried she might hurt the people inside…”  
Salvisa understood. There would be almost no way to blow out the flames without sending everything else in the burning building flying, and if Flossie would choose to suffocate the flames instead, the people inside would perish as well.  
“I’ll see what I can do.” Salvisa said, unbuckling her sword from around her waist and handing it off to Walse. The movement made her wince at the pain in her shoulder. At least the arm was mobile.  
“But you’re hurt.”   
“Tch.” Salvisa countered, “I’ve had worse. I can wait. Lop, can you go back in, or shall we find another?”  
“I’m good.” Lop coughed again.

The kitchen was consumed in flames and heavy smoke lined the ceiling. Salvisa dropped to her knees and crawled along the dirt floor. She could see several slaves in the room in different states of consciousness and terror. Each had, true to Lop’s word, a thick iron shackle around ankle that chained them to the kitchen tools. She could have done to their dirty feet as the Rune had to the guard captain’s arm, or… 

Salvisa asked the Rune. In its wordless, dreamlike way, it told her that destroying the fire itself was not its domain, and crumbling the wood it burned would only leave fine dust to swirl in the updrafts and burn hotter. Salvisa probed further, and on her next question she got the same obstinate silence she had before. But, Salvisa thought, it was not a ‘no.’

She drew the the power of the Rune through her own hands and forced it into the shape she desired. It felt like forcing a blade of grass through a thousand miles of mountain. Salvisa felt like her heart, lungs, and brain were ready to explode from her body like the nutmeats hissing and popping but abandoned on the kitchen table. This wasn’t the effort of compressing inevitability from a week to a moment, but centuries into as fast as Salvisa could dare.

The irons that trapped every slave imprisoned in the kitchen bloomed into rust. Salvisa wasn’t sure if the stars she saw floating in front of her eyes were loose particles of rust alighting into the hot air, or cinders from the walls, or specters of the strain she forced herself through. Salvisa pointed Lop to help move the others out while she herself crawled to the nearest slave, a woman. She pulled at the shackle and it crumbled between her hands. Salvisa wordlessly pulled the terrified slave onto her back and carried her out.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t want to die anymore.” The slave sobbed over and over into Salvisa’s ear

The freshness of the air outside was startling but soon choked out by the peasants swarming around Salvisa to help the freed slave girl. Salvisa sank to her knees and let the serfs peel the poor burden off of her back.

“Lop needs more help.” Salvisa rasped, “People are still in there. Their chains will crumble.”

The crowd broke up slightly, with Walse anguishing over the water line breaking up but more eager to send the ablest into the blaze. Salvisa felt numb, aware of some distant gladness she was able to save at least one life but unable to enjoy it. The slave girl was sobbing, singed, and stained where she had touched bloody clothes or Salvisa’s rust-stained palms. The kind green light of Flossie’s wind rune eased the soot from the girl’s lungs and the fresh burns on her skin, though nothing could be done about the well-worn scars eaten into her skin by the iron shackle.

The girl whispered something to Flossie, and the peasant woman covered her open mouth with trembling hands. Flossie’s mouth moved but couldn’t utter a sound, and when the girl nodded in response she was met with a crushing embrace. Salvisa knew at once from the emotion between the two that it was Flossie meeting the daughter she had given up for dead, and indeed the gaunt, flame-tortured thing with a many-times broken nose and twisted fingers may as well have crawled her way out of hell itself. Still, there was no denying that in this moment Freia was beautiful in her joy. Salvisa fed off their emotions like someone starved, and found though her numbness that she could still cry and smile with the two.

Salvisa’s moment of bliss was broken by the sight of a blue uniform running into the fort.  
“Where is Salvisa?” Corbin demanded.  
“I’m here.”  
“You- by the gods of heaven and earth, what happened to you?”  
Salvisa shrugged weakly in response. She could note a tense fear in the remaining serfs as he approached, and frustration in her former subordinate.  
“I could smell the smoke from past the village… You didn’t, did you?”  
Again, a shake of the head. “No. Not me. But the guards-” Salvisa coughed, and the effort wracked her further, “- I had to. It made me. Corbin, I can’t stand. Can you pick me up?”  
“No you don’t!” Flossie intervened, emphasizing each word in the way only a mother could, before she looked past the grime that covered Salvisa and exclaimed,“Gods, your face!”

Salvisa couldn’t see, but had a faint idea. She looked down, intrigued and embarrassed. Her hands, covered in rust and soot and blood, were also a field of rosy burst capillaries, and grew only denser as she checked up her arm and pulled aside the collar of her tunic.

“Let me help.” Flossie said, and invoked her wind rune for Salvisa as strongly as she did for her daughter. The ache in Salvisa’s wounded shoulder turned into a memory, but her feeling of weakness ran deeper than what the wind rune could heal.

The other villagers emerged from the burning ruin with the other slaves slowly, all of them suffering from the heat and the smoke. The roof collapsed by the time Flossie had finished tending to all of them and put one last, exhausting effort into snuffing out the flames of both the kitchen and the great hall with a sharp and breath-sapping gust of wind. The procession back to town as a triumphant one. Though she had counted only on Corbin to help her limp back, Salvisa found herself instead carried bodily by the serfs to the hovel of Wisewoman Erda. The crowd bubbled with relief and joy, making it difficult to tell where one conversation ended and another began.

The wisewoman listened calmly to every word that poured from the lips of the people she had seen from their birth through their coming of age, marriage and further. Those enslaved at the fort told of their masters’ cruelty, and those imprisoned in the kitchen said they had agreed amongst themselves to set fire to the kitchen in a last bid for the freedom of their souls. Their bodies had already been crushed and trapped beneath the lowest rung of respect at the fort.

Erde turned to Salvisa and said, “And you, dear? I have already heard about what did you have done for my grandson, and now you have returned my granddaughter as well. How did you bring such blessings on us today?”  
Salvisa laughed humorlessly, finding no blessing in being the bearer of half of a True Rune. “When the guard captain sent the rest away to fight the fire, he said to me that he wanted to question me about the bandits that had kidnapped Don, and about the fugitive with a True Rune. I’m certain he guessed I did both.”

Salvisa looked up to Corbin for support, but found him impassive. She forgave him for it. She hadn’t expected to be drawn into destroying Harmonian law so utterly, and from his hesitation the night before didn’t expect Corbin’s loyalty to be foolhardy. She wondered if he would even stay when she got to the next part of her tale. Salvisa made a decision to leave out how the Rune had escaped her control briefly, and continued.

“In any case, he was determined not to let me leave and had brought in every other guard at the fort to make sure of it. I was left with no option but to take out my sword against them all. The captain’s rune set fire to the hall. I left- I don’t think any of his men made it- and when I heard there were people trapped in the kitchens I went in and used my Rune to free them. I think I overreached myself then; I wish I could do more.”

“And what would you have done? You’ve already saved Manastash.”

“No, I haven’t. If I could have just left with everyone else… I’m terrified. As soon as the capital knows what has happened, Manastash will cease to exist. The military may decimate the whole province, just to be sure. You will not have the ability to fight back, and Dunan would be far more likely to turn you back if you made it to the border- they have no need for war with Harmonia.”  
The last words flew out of her mouth so easily and logically that Salvisa felt a clammy horror take hold of her. Only a week ago, hadn’t she been so certain that going south to Dunan would mean safety? What was she thinking?  
“What would you do?” Erde asked  
“If it were me leading the village? I don’t know. If there is anything in the fort I would take that and hide underground.” Salvisa remembered that she and Corbin had seen the place so far, and she had only told Flossie, “Last night I found an entrance to these rooms carved into the hill. There’s so many, I’m sure there would be enough room to last until supplies run out, if need be. That is, if it doesn’t offend you…”  
Erde was silent for a while, her black eyes closed in thought before she said, “If the dead did not mind you, they will not mind us. What do you think, Walse?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Expecting the Harmonian Bishopric to attack soon, the village of Manastash makes preparations for their arrival by fortifying the underground city nearby. Salvisa, weakened and aged by the Rune of Decay, must rest her body as she struggles to quiet her fears.

“Show me this underground place, and I’ll decide.” said Walse. “How much time do we have?”  
Salvisa thought hard about how she would handle the situation, were she in command at the capital. Manastash was a week out from there and less from the nearest large garrison, but no doubt the Bishopric already had a unit at the ready for her capture. At worst, that unit would be already be on its way, following the same rumors that the captain of the Manastash guard had known. More than rumors- the captain was prepared with a vessel for a True Rune.  
“At worst, a handful of days.” Salvisa said. “I wouldn’t give much more than a week.”

From that point, the course of action was all but decided. Corbin carried Salvisa, whose legs still buckled when she tried to stand, to the hilltop. Walse fretted all the while about how to manage the ongoing harvest- there was the very real risk of losing all the grain that was depended on to carry them through the winter, and then there would be little for the next planting. And, like it had for Salvisa when she first saw the grand hall of the underground city, all that fear dissolved into wonder. For the look on the serfs’ faces alone, Salvisa was happy to have spent another precious scroll to light the darkness. They explored deeper this time, finding traces that pointed to rooms that were once an inn, a blacksmith, a stable, a school, a storehouse. Salvisa did not have time to lead farther before the scroll began to give out, but back in the daylight both Walse and Erda gave their approval.  
Walse ultimately gave the direction that the harvest needed to be completed even faster than planned, and that whoever would not be in the fields would clear out the barns in the fortress before razing the rest of the damned place. Corbin said he would see what he could see and hear from the countryside, but Salvisa grabbed his navy sleeve and held him back.

“I can understand if you don’t agree with what I’ve done. You have no obligation to stay.” Salvisa said  
“No, I think I am doing the right thing. Really, though, I thought you had more pride than to stay around these…” Corbin didn’t bother to conceal his disgust. “If you are going to risk your life, do it over something worthwhile.”  
Salvisa scowled at the insult.  
“Though maybe you don’t have much of a choice.” Corbin said, but the damage was already done. “I’m going.”  
“Fine young man.” Erda said as Corbin disappeared into the distance.  
“The model of his type.” Salvisa said bitterly, “I’m sorry for his rudeness. Is there anything I can do to help?”  
Her mind was recovering faster from the strain of commanding the Rune than her body, and color eased itself into the grey numbness of her mind. But with that clarity also flooded in memories and worry. As long as Salvisa was doing something, she could keep herself from falling off a dark precipice of thought.   
“You can strip the flower buds off these-” Erda reached into her hovel and pulled out a bundle of grey-green stems and handed them to Salvisa, “We’ll need medicine for now, and for later too.”  
Salvisa took off her headscarf and put it on the ground in front of her, and set to work peeling off the tiny, dried-out flower buds. Under her touch, the flowers released a scent that clung to Salvisa’s fingers like honey.  
“These are lavender?” she asked.  
Erda nodded, “From my garden. No one told me how pretty your hair is, like snow.”  
“What? No, I’m-“   
Salvisa thought briefly about checking, but decided she would rather not ruin the memory of how she used to be so soon. Instead, she let out a long, shivering sigh. 

Salvisa helped Erda prepare her medicines well into the evening, when the serfs returned from the field with the day’s harvest and from the fort with their spoils from the fort. They came into town like kings. Wagons rolled in drawn by fine horses and loaded with all they could take- food, wine, silver, clothes, jewelry, and anything else not nailed down. The only thing left behind was a smoldering pile ash.

That night the whole town celebrated. Salvisa couldn’t recall a happier party, everyone drunk with wine and victory, and filled with choice roasted meats. There were no pretensions, no higher-ups to please, just unadulterated bliss. Salivisa wished she had the energy to dance, and the stomach to drink, but she was still weak and felt sick with thoughts that avalanched over the course of the day that that she didn’t dare voice.

It was that damned, accursed Rune. And it was Salvisa. And it was not knowing anymore where she began and it ended, and how easily it had slipped from her control that morning. There was the nagging thought of how her first instinct was to flee south, and that over centuries the last bearer had done just that, before he died in front of her in the Island Nations. It was the ghastly visions it showed her, and how she capitulated even a small bit, first to the poor bat, then to Lop. Had any of these been her own desires? Or merely the Rune’s subtle pressure at the back of her mind? Then there was the terror that still sent her heart racing when she thought about it, when the Rune purely of its own accord withered the arm of the captain of the guard, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

What frightened Salvisa more was how cruelly the Rune extracted its price for turning iron into rust. She commanded it then, to be sure, but if every kindness she asked of the Rune was met with silence, she didn’t know how long she would last. No, its toll on her energy and her youth couldn’t even be called “cruelty”, because that implied a certain sense of maliciousness or hate. But the True Rune didn’t hate, or love. It was coldly alien, a black stone lodged in Salvisa’s mind and soul. There were no emotions to color the visions and whispers it filled Salvisa with, and she was left not knowing what was a dream or a nightmare, a fear or a desire. She had all of immortality to live with this True Rune, and no one to confide in. She could envision the fear and distrust it would awaken if they would suspect she could succumb even momentarily to the Rune of Decay, and worse that she had.

Less painful but still worrisome was that she had killed, with her own hands, the entirety of the military force at the fort. That was a betrayal of her own kind, and one she was sure that Corbin would not forgive no matter what duress she said she was under. And the coldness of her movements, as so many reflexes after years of practice…

Salvisa threw up. It burned her throat and tasted of acid untempered by food.  
“Captain, are you alright?” Corbin asked. He rubbed Salvisa’s upper back.  
“A little better now.” Salvisa said, and spat on the ground. The taste remained. She kicked some dirt into the wet mess and said, “I should turn in. Why don’t you join in the party? They really aren’t that bad, and wine is wine.”  
“Let me help you up the hill. Do you want the wisewoman as well?”  
“Yes, thanks, Corbin.” Salvisa stood up on frail legs and held on to Corbin for support. “Just promise me you take time to enjoy yourself, I don’t know when we’ll get another chance.”  
Almost on cue, both Flossie and Erda rushed up. Salvisa hadn’t thought they would notice.  
“Uh, s-sir, w’ll take care of Salvisa.” said Flossie, not knowing what would be the best way to address someone of the aristocracy, and one she didn’t already know  
“It’s Corbin. That will be enough. And thanks. You will be alright, Captain.”

Salvisa nodded, and went left the bright light of the celebration bonfire to go with Flossie and Erda up the hill, to the underground city. Salvisa hazarded her way along the path circling the hill unaided. By the time she reached the top she found her back soaked through with sweat. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I asked Walse to make a room for you.” Flossie said as she lit an oil lamp. This was new; Salvisa guessed it was taken from the fort. Certainly with the overblown need for light the late captain of the guard demanded, there would be enough oil to light the village’s evenings for a while.

Flossie and Erda guided Salvisa down the stone steps, their dirt now marred by many foot prints, and to a smaller room in what would have been a residential area, long ago. The walls along the way were packed with everything taken from the fort, only somewhat organized but very present. Salvisa couldn’t believe that so much had once been stored in one place, or that it had been carried here in a day, despite the number of peasants devoted to the task.

Salvisa’s room had smaller and more complete versions of the grand murals that lined the main hall. What furniture originally decorated the stone walls and floor had crumbled and was swept into a corner. The only useable item now was a bed, a real bed with a metal frame and mattress, set alongside one wall. Someone had already made it up using the linens taken from the fort- it was obvious, they still had the crest from the Harmonian flag on them sewn in white upon a navy quilt- but it felt beyond an extravagant kindness to Salvisa.

“Please, lie down.” Erda gestured. Salvisa was out of breath and only too happy to oblige. “You’re far too tense.”  
“It’s a lot on my mind, recently,” Salvisa explained almost sheepishly, though she couldn’t say a cause for her embarrassment, “I’m worried about my son, I hope his half of the Rune isn’t as cruel to him as mine has been to me.”

That was the thought that had made her so sick, before she even was consciously aware of it. Salvisa wanted to cry as much as her heart ached and her stomach churned at the thought of Bram having to go through the same pain as she had because of the Rune. As kind as a True Rune of Growth sounded as opposed to one of Decay, she couldn’t be sure.

“If he’s your son, he’ll be fine.” Flossie said.  
“Right.” Agreed Erda, “Now, I will have to recommend bed rest for you for the next day at least. I don’t think you’ll enjoy it, but it is better than setting yourself back through trying too hard.”  
“I’ll try,” Salvisa said, knowing that in the past she had been a terrible invalid as far as keeping to bedrest, and that with the threat of assault on the village she would have another thing to plague her thoughts. “But may I have something to help me sleep? My mind keeps running…”

Flossie looked to her mother, who nodded. With a calming green glow, the rune on Flossie’s hand summoned a tranquil breeze that carried Salvisa off to the first pleasant dreams she had since acquiring the Rune.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa is resigned to bed rest, but finds not just kindness but a more than willing ally among the villagers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you read this far? Thanks :D ! Sasarai shows up next chapter, I promise.

Salvisa didn’t know when she awoke, except that the village was already busy arranging the underground city into a more proper order. A plate of meat and bread had been left by her bed alongside a carafe of water; Salvisa was taking an eager fill from both of these when Flossie returned.

“You must have needed that!” Flossie exclaimed, “Is the food not too hearty? No? Good. Your boy, Corbin, he said he was going out to scout again.”  
“Mm,” Salvisa swallowed a mouthful of black bread, “Thank you, for everything.”  
“It’s the least we can do.”  
“I don’t know-- I think I might be more trouble than I’m worth.”  
“Nonsense. In any case, my Freia is quite taken with you. And I’ve been meaning to ask: Walse was telling me something about your Rune being a god, I don’t think the stories in our village are the same as yours. We know runes, but they’re hardly even spirits.”  
“I can tell you the story of creation, the one I learned.” Salvisa offered, “In the beginning, there was only Darkness. Darkness was lonely, and shed a single Tear. From this tear were born two handsome brothers, Sword and Shield, both decorated with brilliant jewels. They grew jealous of each other and fought. It was a terrible fight, where Sword claimed he could cut through anything and Shield claimed he was impenetrable. In the end, both brothers shattered. While Sword became the sky, Shield became the earth. The sparks from their hard-fought battle became the stars. The jewels from the fallen brothers became the twenty-seven True Runes that govern all of nature, and from which all other runes are born.”  
“That’s interesting,” said Flossie, “In our village, runes are just windows to nature, not gods. But do your stories tell about the creation of men? We have our own story: The council of gods decided that they needed beings to rule. They called upon the divine craftsman to make them. For his first attempt, he took stone and brine, but when the gods gave them life they created only beasts and monsters. He tried again, with clay and brackish water, and created the subhuman races. These were still not pleasing to the gods, and on his third attempt the craftsman god took black earth and sweet water, and created the races of man.”  
Flossie opened her mouth as if she was going to continue, but halted and blushed.  
“Is there something else? Salvisa asked.  
“It might offend-”  
“Go on.”  
“And then the craftsman god grew haughty, and tried to create a race finer than any of men. He took a handful of dung and pissed in it, creating first-class Harmonians. And that’s- that’s why have yellow hair and are all full of shit.”  
Salvisa laughed. Flossie startled at first, but smiled when she saw the humor was genuine.  
“I don’t think I know any stories like that,” Salvisa said, “Maybe our gods would be kinder if we gave them a better sense of humor.”

The rest of the day passed less painfully than Salvisa expected. The stillness of her room was punctuated often by villagers stopping by with their thanks, and even without visitors there was much to hear of song and chatter echoing from the hallways. Freia visited with another meal and two bundles of cloth in a straw basket. Salvisa didn’t have the mind to study her features yesterday, and hardly would have been able to put the name to the face if it weren’t for her resemblance to Flossie. She was a small figure but sturdy. The basket she braced against her body had ample purchase between her small waist and large hips. She had a pretty face, with dark brown hair contained in a braid that reached her waist contrasting beautifully with a face grown pale from her confinement. Her nose swayed strangely from having been broken more than once, but that imperfection was more than forgiven by the beauty in her black eyes. Yes, she was pretty, Salvisa thought, much more charming if no longer classically beautiful. Salvisa noticed her fingers were twisted from abuse and shuddered to think of what else the slaves had to endure.

“Your dinner should still be a little warm.” Freia said, taking a bowl of familiar stew from her basket and setting it by Salvisa. Freia didn’t have the commanding presence of her mother or grandmother, and held her hands close in front of her body. It seemed strange that the girl was so shy, but then again, Salvisa had saved her life.  
“Dinner? It’s that late?”  
“Mother said you didn’t wake up until past noon.” Freia said, “Perhaps her magic is too strong- Grandmother was a wonderful witch, and she says I have good potential too.”  
Salvisa smiled, “Thank you. I’m happy to see you doing so well.”  
“Thanks!” Freia blushed, “And I brought these for you, your uniform. And mother’s mad at me because I worked on it all day and night, but I made you a tunic. To replace yours.”  
“Really, it’s your clothes I ruined.” Salvisa laughed, and took both her blue wool uniform and the green linen cloth. “I’m sorry about that.”  
“No, it’s okay. I wish I could have done better. My hands are… not so good anymore.”  
“May I?”   
Salvisa motioned to take off her bloodstained and torn blouse. Freia turned around so she wouldn’t see, which struck Salvisa as charming. She was so used to changing in front of other people, even men, in the field. It hardly crossed her mind that anyone would be bothered. The tunic fit perfectly, if a little stiff for want of wear.   
“It’s beautiful, Freia. How did you get the fit so perfect?”  
“I used your uniform.” Freia beamed, “It’s nothing really. I only didn’t know if you preferred skirts or trousers.”  
“Trousers, I have hardly worn skirts since I joined the Temple Guard. They feel so strange now. You’re really too kind.”  
“Not at all.” Freia shook her head vehemently, and Salvisa saw her shyness dissolve into a passionate fire. Her twisted hands fell to her side as tight fists, and Freia’s delicate jaw set firm. “Salvisa, I mean it truly: I want to help you, I want to fight by your side. I found the rune-” Freia reached into a pocket of her skirts and pulled out a dark crystal the size of a walnut, lit with an inferno inside, “-the rune that the Captain had, in the ashes. Grandmother says she will grant me its power, if you will have me.”  
“People will die, Freia. Your brother couldn’t handle it. Are you sure you will? With your enemy’s rune?”  
“Yes.” Freia said. Her brow furrowed, “I want that irony, of defeating my-- your-- enemies with their own power. I want to see them die. For all the friends that I’ve lost… did you know that a creeper can skeletonize a man in an hour?”  
Both Freia and Salvisa shuddered at the thought. It was only rumor to Salvisa, but she had heard of the man-eating plants that wandered the southern forests. Salvisa struggled to think of a person who would keep such a pet, and remembered she had met him, and he had died in front of her.  
“As you wish.” Salvisa said, “Once I can, I will teach you how to fight, how to scout. I should have to teach everyone willing in the village, for what little time we have.”  
Freia responded with a warm, firm, soft embrace. “I shouldn’t ask you to hurry,” she said without letting up, “but I can’t wait.”  
Freia let go an excused herself, just as Corbin returned. Salvisa couldn’t help but notice how she recoiled from him.  
“Anything?” Salvisa asked Corbin.  
“Nothing yet. Only stupid rumors about a ‘Fire Bringer’. I can’t believe how these peasants talk.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Sasarai appears!  
> >Fight  
> >Item  
> >Pokemon do not exist in this narrative  
> >Run

It was several more days before Corbin spotted anything of note. By then Salvisa felt as though she could function, though not at the level she remembered being able to. Some weakness remained, and it dogged her thoughts as much as her worry over Bram. Salvisa was enjoying fresh air and the view of harvested fields when she and Corbin spotted the first signs of trouble, a black spot moving over the horizon down the main roads. They lost no time in warning the people of Manastash to take shelter. By mid-morning, everyone from the youngest infant to the most crippled elder was hidden within the fort, and the heavy millstone door wheeled shut against the invaders. Salvisa and Corbin watched from the hilltop, two fine horses saddled and ready at their side.

“Do you recognize that crest?” Salvisa asked Corbin as the army and their standard bearers drew closer  
“It’s the Black Bishop.” those words alone sent shivers down Salvisa’s back, “Field Marshal Sasarai, with a full regiment.”

Salvisa’s heart sank. Harmonia was holding no quarter, to send their most famed general. In her years of service she had never met him, and rumors ran the gamut from the name “Sasarai” being a hereditary title to the man being a True Rune bearer himself. Whatever the case, the person she would have to face was one of only a few to be elevated beyond the rank of general, and she could expect no less skill in combat from the troops he led.

“Which way do we run?” Corbin asked.  
“Not yet. They’re sending a messenger on horseback.”  
“Then I’ll meet him.” Corbin said, and pulled himself astride his chestnut mare.

The hill became painfully quiet as the sound of galloping hoofbeats faded into the distance, and the silence stretched out in Salvisa’s mind far longer than it really was. The two small figures in the distance between one woman and an army danced together only briefly before Corbin returned in the direction he came from while the enemy messenger stood his ground.

Corbin returned with a piece of parchment folded closed and sealed with blue wax. As soon as Salvisa took the letter in her hand, she realized it was not only the crest on the war banners the imprint it the wax matched. She cursed herself for being so stupid. She removed the signet ring from her finger and set it into the wax- it was a perfect fit. Salvisa’s elation was so great for a moment she forgot to breathe. With shaking hands, she ran the blade of her knife underneath the sealing wax to open the letter. The words were brief- the Bishop had written in a round and open script,

“I have not forgotten my promise. If you have happened to have destroyed the seal without recalling my signet, I have something else you may recognize me by.  
If I still have your trust, I look forward to seeing you face-to-face at last.  
-S”

Salvisa could scarcely believe what she read, and looked over the letter again, from the seal to the parchment to the words inked upon it. Her mind ran through the idea that her masked Bishop had been compromised, and all was a trap. Salvisa thought if he was as stupid to have told so much about their meeting, she may as well ride out to a quick doom. That thought ran against the grain of her intuition.

“Are you alright?” Corbin asked. His face was marked with concern.  
“Yes, I think it’s him.”  
“‘Him’, who?”  
“The Bishop who told me to escape. He said he would be back, and his seal matches the ring he gave me.”  
Corbin rolled his eyes. The gesture cut Salvisa deeply. “Well, you have friends in high places.”  
“I’m going. If I’m wrong, you are free to say that I forced you to stay.”  
“Captain!”  
“I’m going, Corbin.”

Salvisa hoisted herself up on her own horse, letter clutched tightly in hand, and rode out. She could feel the poor thing nervous beneath a strange rider as she goaded him faster, but he was obedient. The air nipped at Salvisa’s cheeks and as she got closer to the messenger she could feel her thighs fatiguing already. She wasn’t as well as she thought.

The messenger dismounted as Salvisa drew near. When she was close enough to see his face, Salvisa startled so much that her horse balked under his reins. She had thought it was Bram in front of her, but small tells gave away the messenger as someone different, despite the disturbing likeness.

“Where is your Bishop?” Salvisa asked, swallowing her shock.  
“That’s me, actually.” The messenger smiled affably.  
“Why not send a messenger instead?”  
“I thought it would be better if we could have a little privacy from other ears.”  
Salvisa dismounted, “You look different. I’m sure you’ll have another face at hand I can recognize?”  
“Clever. Of course I do.” He reached into his horse’s saddlebag and pulled out something brass and shot with silver. A mask, broken and repaired.

Salvisa hugged the man close, and swung him around in spite of herself, like she had for Bram before he was old enough to protest. It left her winded and horrified that she had done such a thing to a Bishop, and left him blushing.

“I’m glad you’re happy. Sorry I had to lead you on like that- yes, I am Bishop Sasarai. I had expected I would have to meet you again on my own, but fate allowed me to negotiate an army to bring with me. You wouldn’t believe the trouble I went through, but I’ve made sure that every one of them is sympathetic. We’ll need them.”

Salvisa removed the ring from her finger one last time, and pressed it into the Bishop’s hands. 

“Thank you so much for loaning me your signet.” she said  
“You don’t wish to keep it? We may be parted again.”

Salvisa took the ring back without argument. She was bursting with questions, but they fluttered in her mind so numerously she could find no words to catch them with. “Let’s get back.” She said, “I need to tell Corbin and the villagers that everything’s alright.”

The entire ride back, Salvisa felt giddy with joy and a curious tingle prickled her back where she was certain that an entire army was watching her. She could see Corbin’s concealed distrust when they caught up with him, but he said nothing. Sasarai carried an amused smile that changed to outright delight when he saw Salvisa clear the grass disguising the entrance to the underground city. When the stone door was rolled aside to allow the people of Manastash back into the daylight, Walse was relieved enough to be angry when Salvisa told him of the reality behind the invasion.  
“Excellent. Instead of starving now in the dark, we can be starving and frozen later in the sunlight. How the hell do you expect a village of a hundred to feed an army of a thousand over winter?”  
“Excuse me, sir,” Sasarai interjected before Walse could continue his rant, “But if it is any help, I gave pretext to the Archbishop and the others I expected a siege. We have a good supply with us, and with Salvisa’s help I expect to secure help from other regions.”  
Walse snorted. “Every time I dare think I did the right thing… I’ll clear a room for you, Bishop.”  
“Thank you. I will have my men start on rebuilding the fortifications on the surface- we, myself included, will have tents for tonight at the least.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa meets in private with her new ally, Priest-General Sasarai, to discuss past, present, and future.

The evening found Salvisa hosting her new general in her quarters, now cleaned and furnished with fine wooden furniture. She had set the table with food for her guest and Sasarai, smiling as he had since they met, supplied a bottle of fine Kanakan wine. They had argued already about the right to lead what was amounting to an armed rebellion, and Salvisa grudgingly accepted the role. It was difficult to not see Sasarai still on the level of her superior, but he had argued that as great as his skill was in the field, the course they should set on was Salvisa’s alone to determine.

“Did you know they’re calling you the third ‘Flame Champion’?” Sasarai asked.  
“Corbin said something like that. I’m not familiar with the story, but it’s ridiculous. I didn’t burn anything down, it was Freia and that captain.”  
“You should embrace it. It’s a very powerful legend in southern Harmonia, the first Fire Bringer who helped the land remain independent, and the second who saved the Grasslands from destruction.”  
“But that’s not me.”  
“At least you look more like the title than the last one, he was just a child.”  
Salvisa caught a cast of reminiscence crossing Sasarai’s face and asked, “How old are you then?”  
“How old do I look?”  
“No more than twenty. But you sound like you knew the last Fire Bringer.”  
“I should be offended! I’ve been saying I’m a little over thirty for the past two-hundred years.”  
Salvisa gaped, not sure what to say.  
“I also have a True Rune, the True Earth Rune. We have both seen the same vision of a silent, ashen future. My apologies for having to put your through all this, but it’s for that future I had to ask you to escape Crystal Valley.” For the first time since she met him, Sasarai stopped smiling and his expression turned grim, “There’s too much to explain. Let me say I had a brother, also a True Rune bearer, and we both fought in the Dunan Unification War and the Second Fire Bringer War. He was the one who saw the Ashen Future for what it was, and wanted to destroy his own Rune for it. Since then, I’ve wanted to know what he knew and that was what forced me to make sure that you were out of the grasp of Harmonia, and to help you.”  
“The Second Fire Bringer War was in Solis 475, right? I saw you had that year engraved on your ring. You must have loved each other a lot.” Salvisa said after a long pause.  
“Oh, no. He hated me with every fiber of his being, before I even knew who he was. Humiliated me in battle and tried to kill me, even stole my Rune. I can’t love him, and yet I’m grateful. I wanted to know him after that and learn some of what he knew. If not for that I would have gladly crafted my own death, and yours as well.   
“I suppose I owe you a fuller explanation than that. After the Second Fire Bringer War, I wanted to understand my brother’s motives more. From everything I had heard from people who knew him, it was unexpected for him to have taken such a turn. It was a slow process. It took decades to make the connections I needed to see Harmonia’s most secret archives and to understand the Sindar’s ancient legacy my brother came to know so well.  
“By then, I realized perhaps too late that much of my work outside Harmonia-- to investigate and secure, if possible, the True Runes, meant that the world would end in the Ashen Future. Under the Circle Rune that has stagnated this entire country, the world would turn into a place that knows no life and death, no war or peace, no warmth, no justice, no sun or night, nor anything.   
“Just as I understood that, I was drawn through my knowledge of the Sindar into Harmonia’s research. You have to understand, as a Bishop I could never refuse. I helped recreate the rituals the Sindar knew but we have long since lost which could separate a True Rune from its bearer. We began to refine our work until we could potentially even work with a Rune bearer unwilling to go through the ritual, and that was when you and Bram came onto the scene each bearing half the Rune of Change.  
“You must understand, the Rune of Change is immensely powerful. It has left ruins of abandoned civilization all over the world, and purely by being the antithesis of the Circle Rune, its control has immense political importance. Even the Armes Empire and its Sun Rune would be cowed by a nation that holds True Runes governing both order and chaos. So as soon as I heard that I would have to prepare for the ritual to remove a True Rune for its bearer, I had to act, and try to convince you to leave.   
“Enough of that. We should talk business, like I came here for. I know that my skill lies at most with one army, and from your background I assume you work best on the scale of individuals. I think we will need a strategist who can manage a grander campaign. At the same time we are, say, a thousand strong against all of Harmonia and need some allies. Which should we pursue?”  
“You said you fought in the Second Fire Bringer Wars? Do you still have contacts in the Grasslands?”  
Sasarai nodded.  
“I would say we make allies in the east and southwest first. I wouldn’t trust the legitimacy of a few isolated rebels if I were any strategist worth my salt.”  
Sasarai smiled, “I know a few people. We may find friends in the Southern Frontier Defense Force, and hopefully the Grasslands and as far as Zexen Republic and Tinto, but no guarantees. The best place to start searching would be Caleria.”  
“Then you agree? This feels so strange, I’m so used to accepting orders.”  
“Don’t worry. Are we done with business? Let me pour you some wine.”  
Sasarai uncorked the green glass bottle he brought into Salvisa’s room and poured out a sip for himself before approving the taste and giving both Salvisa and himself full glasses. He sat down near her, pulling the floor cushions so close they were able to touch glasses without stretching.  
“To the stars.” Sasarai said.  
“May they shine on us.” Salvisa returned, and both took a deep drink of dark red Kanakan wine. It was bone-dry, but so robust it felt fuller than a mouthful of bread. Salvisa swallowed her gulp and admired the oaked, smoky aftertaste. She could never call herself a connoisseur, but there was no doubting this was a good wine. So this was what the status of a Bishop could procure, not the shallow, weak stuff of the ordinary nobility, much less the ordinary military.  
“I have to admit,” Sasarai said after a second mouthful, “I took the last few days to examine your file. How did you meet and marry the most promising member in the last half-century of the Inquisition, if I may ask?”  
Salvisa matched his drink out of politeness. “It’s not that interesting. I don’t even know what he saw in me at first. My family had thrown a party --I’m sure to make sure I finally got married-- and Auxier was there. Somehow, he decided he wanted to marry me. I hardly knew him. I was so scared but somehow it worked out. And then,” Salvisa took another sip, this time trying to drown the feelings surrounding her memory, “When we were travelling to Auxier’s estate for the birth of our child- there was an avalanche. I lost both. I think I had almost grown to love him, and I would have had a daughter.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“It’s alright, I’ve made peace with my loss. I can hardly remember the next year, but the Bishops brought me a child and they asked me to care for him. I really feel like the Bishopric saved both Bram and myself when they asked that. So it’s difficult to be separated from my son. It was such a shock to see your face for the first time, you look so much like him.”  
“Your friend Corbin thought we looked the same.”  
“Not at all. Maybe it’s a mother’s talent. He’s younger, a little shorter. You speak much more confidently, and keep your shoulders back. And I’d never let Bram’ hair grow so far out of regulation length.” Salvisa laughed, “It’s so many little things. There’s no way I could mistake you for Bram. He doesn’t smile so much either.”  
Sasarai chuckled and refilled Salvisa’s glass. “Good you can tell the difference, I had heard rumors of my doppelganger Bishop but had not seen him yet.”  
“Can you tell me about the mask you wore?”  
“That? It belonged to a former Bishop. He pursued his own goals against Holy Harmonia, and for all he achieved was expunged from its history books.”  
“Leknaat seemed to remember a ‘masked Bishop’.”  
“You’ve met Leknaat?”  
Salvisa was taken aback by the priest general’s sudden interest. “Yes,” she said, “A lady who called herself that met me my first night here.”  
“Then you’re truly blessed, I haven’t heard of anyone who has met Lady Leknaat who wasn’t chosen by Fate.”  
“Please…” Salvisa shrugged, withdrawing into herself, “It’s no good luck. I hate this Rune. The one time I am sure I do what I want, it does this-” Salvisa touched her white hair, “And I’m so weak I could hardly walk. Sasarai, do you promise not to judge me?”  
“I promise.”  
“The Rune escaped my power the day the fort burned. It was so horrifying to see what it did without my command. Are you sure I should be leading? I don’t know if I’ll lose control again, or what would happen.”  
Sasarai laid a hand on her shoulder, and Salvisa felt herself relax almost instantly under the reassuring, firm grip. “Don’t worry.” he said, “You won’t be the first or the last, and no one would blame you for being unable to control a god.”  
“It’s just so awful, all I see is death and rot...” Salvisa looked towards her hands twisting her fingers in her lap.  
“That will fade with time, if your will stays strong. There are kinder Runes, yes, but there are crueller ones too. I will stand by you, no matter what your Rune does.”  
“Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about the Grasslands, I’ve never been there.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not alone but lonely, Bram considers his thoughts as a new Bishop of Harmonia.

The sound of lapping water echoed against porcelain-tiled walls. Bram took a deep breath of perfumed air and plunged his head for the last time into the warm water of his bath. The room was so redolent of orange and spice he could almost taste the heady steam.

So much had changed. Every day since he had met with the Bishops, Bram felt as though he were flying through a dream. The memories of the day-long ritual that appointed him as Bishop Bram were still vivid, as was the joy of learning what his new role meant. There would be no more slogging through marshes and mountains searching for Harmonia’s, his father Hikusaak’s, his own glory piecemeal. He would be able to sit with the men who wrote Harmonia’s history with eyes on its entire scope.

Bram arose from the heated bath water, made opaque with herbs and salts, and accepted a towel from his personal attendant. The idea of having a servant to manage and care for every aspect of his personal life still felt strange, but Bram was learning how to allow his valet to dress him, and when to expect each anointment of cold, fragrant oil during the morning preparations. The ceremony was wearing on Bram already, but every day he looked forward to what new skills he would learn under the watchful eyes of his mentors, from dawn until the oil lamps burned low at night. He was bursting to tell his Mam-

His arm slid into a sleeve of cloth so fine, so soft, so warm, so heavy it was like being embraced by a dream, but Bram’ mind had grown cold and hard. He couldn’t tell Mam, she had abandoned him after all these years of using him as a power ploy. He still wasn’t sure if he could believe it, but the Bishops could find anything to prove that every sweet, honeyed word that Salvisa had for him was nothing but an amber trap. It bit hard to feel like he had been such a fool all these years.

“Thank you, Ochs.” Bram nodded to his servant, who was as always unmoved by any word of spite or gratitude. Bram straightened the cuffs of his shirt sleeves and realized for the first time how poorly his old clothes had begun to fit. Finding a silver-framed mirror that could have reflected five people with room to spare, Bram turned around to examine himself.

He hardly believed that the person in the mirror was him. Even the idea of someone with such a coarse upbringing dressed in the clothes of a bishop was still foreign to Bram, and to see himself dressed in the holy blue robes beggared belief. Nor could he recognize the youth with broadening shoulders whose trousers once more reached past his ankles. Even his face had matured somewhat. Bram wondered what he would become, since he was so clearly not his false mother’s son. He cursed that the Bishops wanted to send another in his place to capture her, when he had suffered so much from her deceit and had so many answers to demand.

Bram swallowed his hatred, taking a breath of relaxing citrus, clove, and sandalwood with it. “Ochs, were you able to find the books that I asked for?”  
“No, your Grace. They appear to be missing.”  
Bram sighed heavily. For want of time in his over-scheduled days, and for his father in his, Bram could only know Hikusaak through history books. But no matter what sources he sent Ochs after, he could never fill some holes in his father’s life, despite the man being the founder and High Priest of Harmonia.  
“Very well. You can retire for the night, Ochs. I will stay up a while longer.”  
“Yes, your Grace.” Ochs bowed, and left Bram alone.  
Bram frowned. He was bursting with things to say, but had no one to say them to; the Bishops he didn’t know, and they were too familiar with the new world he was learning; Ochs, while ostensibly his valet and advisor, too obviously cared little for anything Bram said. He could feel the loneliness well up in his eyes as he called upon the Rune for the energy stay awake a while longer. It was always too soon for more nightmares.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with a long journey to Caleria, Salvisa must carefully choose her companions.

The morning saw Salvisa awake alone with an empty bottle of wine and a cold feeling of sobriety. With her eyes closed, she could still remember where Sasarai had held her shoulder, and wondered if she valued it more for that certain physical comfort she had not known in a long time, or because he reminded her so much of her son. Each possibility poisoned the other’s worth. The memory grew unpleasant for as much as she longed to feel it again, and Salvisa hurried herself in getting dressed for the coming day.

Salvisa found the country outside still blue in the morning twilight but already busy. Tents had erupted overnight on the hilltop like mushrooms on a tree stump. Salvisa found her way into Sasarai’s tent, where a meeting had already begun. Walse stood defiant against the priest general and his commanders.

“You, Salvisa. About time.” Walse bristled as she came in. Salvisa started treading more cautiously, aware that whatever was going on was not going well.  
“What’s wrong, Walse?”  
“You tell these people where their stupid army stands in my village.”  
“What?” Salvisa furrowed her brow, trying to guess what had happened beforehand. Sasarai’s commanders seemed equally frustrated, though the general himself was amused if anything.  
“Just what I said! You tell this little general exactly how he needs to make his men behave in my village.”  
“Um…” Salvisa tried to find her words, “While your men are here, Priest General, I must insist that they act as guests. Class should mean nothing here- if they accept me and I respect them as a first-class citizen among the third-class, the people of Manastash should expect the same of anyone.”  
“Good.” Walse said, and clapped Salvisa across the back, “Good to know you’re on our side.”  
Walse turned briskly and left. At least one of the commanders took the chance to roll his eyes.  
“Thank you, we’ve been violently agreeing for the last while.” Sasarai smiled.  
“I can’t blame him for his attitude towards the military.” Salvisa said, “But I am just as serious as Walse. I will not allow any cruelty to pass between your soldiers and these people.”  
“You are more caring than most.” Sasarai said. Salvisa felt an echo of Corbin’s scorn in the back of her mind. “I’ve already told my commanders to defend Manastash while we are away. Rest assured, they are wholeheartedly within the People’s Faction of the aristocracy and they know their place under my command in any case. We can be ready as soon as tomorrow. Let me know if there is anyone you would like to come with us.”

Salvisa’s first instinct was to hunt down Walse to ask for his permission to take someone from Manastash with her. She felt having a third-class citizen to accompany them would make a stronger case for their sincerity of purpose. Frankly, even one fewer civilian would make the soldiers’ jobs protecting them easier as well.

Walse had returned to his home, where his family was beginning the day. With the harvest brought in, there was far less pressing need to make the best use of daylight. Their faces, especially Freia’s, lit up to see Salvisa duck under the lintel.

“Salvisa! I didn’t expect to see you so soon. Are you better?” Flossie said.  
“Yes, I feel like I’m already back to normal.”  
“After what Walse said, I thought those soldier would keep you busy all day.”  
“They are. I will be going to Caleria.” Noting their look of confusion, she explained, “It’s a border city in the southwestern desert. They’re most famous for trade. It’s rich from being on a route going to both Dunan and the Grasslands.”  
“Papa, I want to go.” Freia said as soon as the last word left Salvisa’s lips.  
“Absolutely not.”  
“But Grandmother said!”  
Walse’s jaw grit hard. His authority paled in front of the wisewoman’s. “Said what?”  
“She said I could give me the power of the rune I took from the captain if I would go with Salvisa. I won’t be useless. And I’d rather not be near so many soldiers.” Freia added more quietly, “It makes me feel so nervous.”  
There was a long silence as Walse furrowed his brow in thought. At last he said, “As long as your Momma agrees, and you come home in one piece.”  
“Momma?”  
“Please don’t get hurt, Freia.”  
Freia squealed with delight and hugged her parents closely. Salvisa looked for Don and saw him smiling wistfully at the little sister with more courage than he had. But he had a wife, and, soon a child, to care for. Freia had the reality of having her family back for only a few days.  
“I’m going to tell Grandmother.” Freia beamed, “I love you so much!”  
Freia ran out of the hovel towards the wisewoman’s.  
“I promise I’ll take care of Freia.” Salvisa assured Walse and his family.  
At the same time as Walse said, “You better.” Flossie laughed, “I think she will insist on taking care of you.”  
“Will you be alright for the time we’re gone? It may be over a month.”  
“We’ll survive.” Walse answered, “Don says he’s going to help those soldiers, right?”  
Don nodded, “Outside of Lop, I don’t think anyone knows the land around here better. I don’t know what Lop is planning.”

Salvisa left Walse’s home glad. The only other person she planned on bringing with was Corbin, who she expected to be among comrades up on the hilltop. She wandered through the mushroom forest of canvas tents asking around for the young man, when she was taken by surprise.

“Hey, Salvisa.”  
Salvisa turned around and saw the wiry figure of Lop. She had thought the boy had been studiously avoiding her ever since their last encounter on the hilltop, but Lop seemed strangely excited to see her.  
“I heard you were going somewhere. I want to come too.”  
“I thought you were afraid of me. Remember what I told you?”  
“Yeah, you’d ‘rot my face off’. I’m not telling anyone. But I overheard you’re going somewhere and I wanna go too.”  
Salvisa folded her arms in front of her, saying, ”You’re not scared of my Rune?”  
“Nah. It felt strange, but I’d rather see you use it on other people, other things.”  
Salvisa weighed Lop’s flaws against his merits. “So long as you swear to behave yourself.”  
“You’re great.” Lop grinned, “Looking for that guy, Corbin? I think he’s in the general’s tent.”

Lop spoke the truth. Her scout was busy pointing out significant features he had noticed in the surrounding lands during his wanderings, and the commanders were more full of questions than the young blond man had answers.

Sasarai noticed Salvisa enter first, saying, “Back so soon?”  
“Yes, I’ve got two volunteers already, and was looking for Corbin. Corbin, do you want to go to Caleria with us?”  
“What?” Corbin looked up from the maps spread out on the table and processed her question before saying, ”Yes, if you wish.”  
“Who are the others?” asked Sasarai  
“Lop here, and Freia, the village head’s.daughter.”  
Sasarai’s fair brow furrowed, “Are you sure?”  
“Yes, yes I am.” Salvisa said, “Since I have come here, I have not met anyone quicker to learn nor more fearless than Lop.” Seeing the boy smile like a proud idiot, she added, “Though he may be a little foolhardy. And Freia has both promise as a rune mage and has endured too much under Harmonian law.”  
“I’m interested to see what you will say to convince my friends to join us, with those choices. I’ll make preparations for five to leave tomorrow.”

The rest of the day was nothing but meetings, with Walse and Don, with Sasarai’s commanders, with anyone who needed audience. Salvisa had forgotten that merely talking could be so tiring, but then again she had never had so long at one time to think about the lay of the land, the numbers of men at her disposal, and the other banal work of running an army. Salvisa fell asleep exhausted.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa and her friends begin the journey across the desolate area known as the Wastes on their way to the desert and Caleria. Their journey is interrupted when their path is blocked and all of their skills are put to the test.

The next morning, Salvisa and Sasarai left with Lop, Corbin and Freia in tow. The journey across the Wastes would not be a comfortable one. Salvisa was glad for the company to warm the tent they had while passing frigid nights and for the fur-lined coats and boots supplied by Sasarai’s quartermaster. When Salvisa heard the term “desert”, she expected a hot, desolate waste. Instead she found a landscape barely inhabitable by scrub and blasted by cold and wind, only slowly turning to sand. It seemed a miracle when they finally found snow but even that was a thin layer of white flakes quickly consumed by the blowing sands. 

Still, Salvisa felt more at home now than she had in a long time. This wilderness had been so much of her life until she was chosen by the Rune. She savored the experience of watching the landscape slowly change before her, the days of walking dusty roads punctuated by rest and hunting, and nights bundled close against the darkness in their tent when no other shelter could be had. Most of all, she was glad to be neither alone, nor overwhelmed by people. Corbin carried himself as though a great tension had been released, though he was still pointedly curt to both Lop and Freia. Lop overcame Salvisa’s initial misgivings about including him in the group, and continued to impress her with his hunger and talent for learning, devouring the plans discussed between Salvisa and Sasarai when it was too dark to continue on the road. 

As for Freia, she managed the strain of travel without complaint and delighted in exploring the powers of her new rune, even if it mostly mostly went towards cooking fires. For Sasarai, Salvisa could not decide. She could feel something, something strong and unintelligible, every time her eyes met his. No matter how she could think about it, that feeling still scared her, and Salvisa was glad for the veil of her other companions’ constant presence keeping Sasarai close, but not too close. 

The group had passed a week and a half of long, cold, monotonous days of travel when they found their first roadblock. It could be smelled before it was seen. The road ahead ran at the bottom of a steep gulley, and a dead dragon filled the whole of it. All over the dragon crowded fat worms longer than Salvisa’s arm, pulsating with movement as they fed upon the deceased flesh. The worms, or maggots, or whatever described them best, were blood-red and almost featureless, so that Salvisa could hardly tell which end led and which tailed as they traced slick paths of slime across the massive carcass.

“Wow.” Lop was the first to comment, and with an expression of wide-eyed excitement upon his face he drew close to the dead dragon. The red worms, though eyeless, sensed the boy’s presence and halted their movement with a high pitched hiss. One closest to Lop bunched up, ready to spring, and met Lop’s drawn knife in midair when it sprung.

Lop’s blade met the worm and dug deeply into it, but when the worm landed on the road Lop found himself holding a hilt with only a dull, steaming lump of what remained of the blade on the other end. Lop threw what remained of his knife to the ground and backed away, saying “A little help?”

The words had hardly escaped Lop’s mouth when a gut of runic fire scorched the monsters. A thin sheen of glass coated the road where Freia’s magic touched it. The worms writhed collectively under the blackening heat but were unfazed, and made their way towards the human group. Salvisa felt a terror well up within her. If the flesh of those red monsters could melt metal, then runic magic was their only hope.

Another worm bulged and spat out a stream of acid that left the ground steaming. Salvisa backed away from the acrid smell and called upon the magic of her Rune to wither the monsters and their strength.

“Salvisa, mind yourself!” Sasarai called out. Salvisa found the ground before her slide as the sand turned into glass-covered spikes that impaled the worms. Several shuddered and curled as death overtook them, but the majority took the piercing blow in stride and inched onward towards their human foes. The foremost took took a hungry leap at the peasant boy that had wounded it, but Salvisa drew her sword fast enough to bat the thing away. Her magic had worked. The creature only bore a shallow gash from the blow, but neither was Salvisa’s sword totally destroyed by acid.

“Freia, your fire hurts most!” Lop called out, and watched as another gut of fire scorched the red worms further. A burning lump of acidic flesh leapt again at Lop and wrapped around the boy’s arm. He cried out in pain and shook the vile thing off. It had no sooner landed on the ground than Salvisa called once more on her Rune and stabbed it with the acid-blunted edge of her sword, imbued with all the destructive power of her Rune. The acid that ate metal and wounded Lop became as harmless as water underneath the influence of the Rune of Decay.

Another blast of flame, more red worms turning to shrivelled, blackened remains. But not all. More glass-tipped earthen spears pierced the enemy but it still wasn’t enough to end the faceless inhumanity.

Salvisa scanned the field. Lop winced in pain as the worm’s poison ate at the skin on his arm, and Freia’s nose bled into an open and panting mouth. Like Salvisa’s when she called too strongly on runic magic, Freia’s eyes were bloodshot with the strain. Corbin held back, intact but knowing this was not his battle to fight. A warm wave of magic flowed through Salvisa, filling her with a warm sense of comfort. The acid that ate at Lop no longer seemed to hurt him, but neither was Salvisa’s sword able to brave the poisonous meat of the worms. Her sword was worn yet duller before she could force her Rune to weaken the last monster to the point where she could kill it.

Lop kicked a worm’s charred remains with disinterest once the fight was finished. If it was difficult to tell head from tail before, now it was impossible.   
“Suppose we can’t eat these.” He muttered, and walked over to the dragon. He squatted down to study its head, saying, “I think its eyes are moving.”  
“Maggots.” Salvisa said. She knew enough of the dead to have seen for herself bloated men and women whose eyes darted back and forth underneath closed lids as if they were dreaming, but it was only the writhing of the blowflies’ children. “Are you alright? We’re almost at the main road. We should be able to find a healer soon.”  
“Uh huh. You okay, Freia?”  
Freia wiped her nose, leaving a smear of blood on her forearm she tried to remove unsuccessfully with her other hand. “I’ll be okay.”  
“We’ll stop at the next inn.” Salvisa decided, “We’ve made good time so far.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shaken from their recent encounter with monsters on the long and unforgiving road to Caleria, Salvisa and her party rest at an inn for the night. Salvisa finds herself for a brief moment alone with Sasarai before they continue to the border city-fortress in search of Sasarai's contacts in the Southern Frontier Defense Force.

Salvisa and her friends had hardly started on the broad, paved road that led directly from Crystal Valley to Caleria when they found the first resting spot, a mudbrick and stucco building used to housing many travelers. After days of tents and remote herders’ huts, the inn seemed almost palatial. Even before they entered, the group was greeted with the smell of food heavily perfumed with spices. The innkeeper accepted Sasarai’s potch without question or even an inquisitive glance, and while Lop and Freia were attended to by a resident physician, Salvisa sank into the soft feather bed in her room.

Sasarai sat down on the feather bed opposite and asked, ”Corbin, could you please ask that we be assured of dinner for five and an extra cot?”  
“You wouldn’t ask for two?” Corbin checked after mentally going through the potential arrangement, “Your Grace wouldn’t need a bed of his own?”  
“Nah.” said Sasarai, surprising both Corbin and Salvisa with his casualness, “I’ve been sharing a tent with five for days; to have my own bed is quite unnecessary.”  
Corbin shrugged and left the room. Salvisa stared at the ceiling and wondered, with a portion of her heart that prickled pleasantly at the thought, if the Bishop was planning on even a moment alone with her.  
“Well, now that we’re alone,” Sasarai said, “I quite admire your choice to bring the boy and girl.”  
“You waited until now to say that?” Salvisa rolled her head to the side to look at the Bishop.  
“Of course,” Sasarai laughed, “I don’t think Corbin would take kindly to Lop and Freia gaining praise over him. Lop, I don’t trust to not let any compliment not go to his head or his mouth. But when we return, I think I would like to see his interest in an apprenticeship with my commanders.”  
“Hmm, that’s an idea, but I would be wary of putting someone who loves to play with danger as much as him in command one day. Hopefully he will mature a little. To think, if he wasn’t in a place so remote, he may have been well into the Howling Voice Guild by now, or if he was born to different parents, he would easily make Temple Guard.” Salvisa propped herself up on her elbows, and asked, “Do you ever wonder where you’d be if fate said would be born differently?”  
“Not really. I suppose… I was born with the True Earth Rune. When it was stolen from me, it felt like I lost a closest friend. If I was never born with the Rune, I would never know what I lost. I might never have become Bishop. I almost certainly wouldn’t have lived long enough to meet you.”  
“Why are you smiling? I’m nothing but trouble for everyone. Bearing a True Rune, though, that’s a very big fate. Maybe the Runes would find us no matter what our birth.”  
“You wish circumstances were different?”  
“No. Maybe, sometimes.”   
Salvisa pushed herself upright and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. She pulled her boots, now more tan than black with road dust, over with her feet and rested her legs inside as she debated whether she wanted to leave the room or not. There was nothing else around that could be reached now. She expected Lop and Freia to finish with the inn’s doctor sometime soon, and for Corbin to return any moment.   
“I’m sorry. I must be making you uncomfortable.” Sasarai said. The corners of his mouth pulled into a mild expression of regret.  
“No, you’re fine.” Salvisa half-lied. She could tell immediately Sasarai saw right through it. “I’m just not used to such nice surroundings, it makes me restless.”  
Salvisa bit her lip, trying to think of how to phrase her words when she corrected her lie.  
“You do remind me of Bram, but in spite of it, maybe because of it as well, I enjoy your company. It’s difficult… but in the end I feel like I can be more at ease around you than most anyone else I’ve met in a while.”  
“Really? What about Corbin, you’ve worked with him for years.”  
“What about me?” The door swung in and Corbin stepped into the room and held the door open. A dog kobold slave carried in a wooden frame with canvas stretched over it. A second soon followed with linens. Both did their work and left without a word.  
“We were just talking about our friendships.” Sasarai said airily. “I understand you two go back a while.”

Later, by the light of a roaring fire, Lop’s exaggerated tales of bravery that day bought a round of beer for the five. Corbin, not to be outdone, wove a tale around his and Salvisa’s battle against a troupe of harpies that had nested in a distant forest village. Other travelers crowded around for the stories. Sandwiched as she was on a bench between Sasarai and Freia, Salvisa let the evening stretch merrily towards dawn. All around her she could hear the buzz of merchants asking if the rumors were true, about the Flame Champion being attacked, but she forbade herself and her friends from even hinting at an answer to their endless questions.

Another three days on the main road passed before Salvisa passed through the gates of Caleria. The city erupted from the mountainous countryside as rudely as Crystal Valley did upon the plains, but where Crystal Valley reflected the peaceful blue dome of the summer sky Caleria only struggled upwards with its walls and towers, every unsuccessful effort terminating in a repugnantly flat roof. To their credit, the Calerians made as much use of their mudbrick roofs as they did of their sandy, stony earth, and almost every ceiling except for those of the guardian towers and walls was shaded by colorful tents and filled with tanned people.

“Sasarai, your Grace!” One of the guards at the formidable gate greeted with a deep bow. His fellow guards followed suit, “We had heard you were fighting south of the capital. What brings you here? Is all well?”  
“Very well, thank you.” Sasarai spoke like we was among equals, as always, “There was no resistance at all. I will be doing an audit of the Southern Frontier Defense Force’s headquarters- have there been any issues recently?”  
“None at all, your Grace! Please, take time to enjoy your stay.”

Keeping Lop and Freia aware of their surroundings and in pace with the others was a struggle. The massive border city was just as foreign to Corbin and Salvisa, but they had the advantage of knowing the same riot of color and sound from Crystal Valley and other cities in the world; For the young man and girl, they may as well have found themselves on the moon with how different the city was from the slow, rustic world of Manastash. Salvisa took to herding the peasants from the rear as she kept her eyes on the blond hair of Corbin bobbing above the crowd and Sasarai’s feathery brown hair barely visible between the ever-changing faces of Caleria. 

By the time Sasarai stopped, even Salvisa was tired from the effort it took to concentrate on so many elements of the city. She barely caught his abrupt turn off the main road into a grand building along it. So much of the city was stained tan with the endless sand, but this one was holding its ground against the losing battle with a fresh coat of stucco and awnings of striped cream and crimson just recently beaten free of the ever-present dust.

“If you don’t mind,” Sasarai said in a low voice to his companions, “Until we meet with the Southern Frontier Defense Force’s leaders, we will be Bishop Sasarai, his two assistants, and their two slaves. My apologies, Lop, Freia.”  
“I’m Salvisa’s, if I must” Freia said firmly, her eyes narrowing, “Not either of yours.”  
“Of course. Lop, do you have any preference?”  
Lop shrugged.  
“Don’t worry, I won’t ask for more than I need to keep up appearances. Let’s go inside, there’s always a suite for dignitaries, and I think you will like it very much.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arriving at an inn in Caleria, Salvisa and her friends find themselves greeted with treatment worthy of a Harmonian Priest General and his entourage. Salvisa questions her own feelings towards Sasarai before bonding with Freia in the warm baths of the inn.

Nothing in the inn could disappoint. A beautiful young woman with blue-black hair and skin like mahogany guided the group across floors decorated with mosaic so fine the intricate, abstract designs seemed almost painted. Light poured into the long, even hallways through high windows so that Salvisa could see how purely white the walls had been painted up to the intricately carved crown molding. It was still afternoon, and the unlit oil lamps that hung from shadowy rafters seemed like dull, sleeping eyes of red and gold glass. A cool breeze scented with sweet incense drifted through the hallway like breath from a sleeping goddess. The maid bowed until her folded hands touched her knees when they came to the suite, and in a lilting accent bade the visitors a pleasant stay.

The suite may have well been plucked straight out of the Crystal Palace, but for the Calerian-style windows. After an alcove the space opened up into an expansive main room loosely divided into a meeting area with a timid secretary desk in the corner set off by a large meeting table, and couches upholstered in blue velvet filling another. Decorations of the most precious craftmanship and material glittered by the soft light of the afternoon sun filtering through glass windowpanes and curtains shot with silver thread. Salvisa almost didn’t dare leave the alcove and ruin the pristine space with her many days of travelling grime.

“Wait a moment, miss,” Sasarai motioned to the maid, and he went to the secretary to write out a brief message, which he sealed and handed to the maid along with a handful of coins, “Please take this to the HSFDF Headquarters.”  
Salvisa watched the maid bow wordlessly and disappear discreetly down the hallway. By the time she turned around, boots and shoes were already pulled off and Corbin, Lop, and Freia had set to feeling out the strange new luxury.  
Salvisa felt a hand press softly at the small of her back. “Sit down, Salvisa.”  
She straightened, pressed by a wave of energy that made her swallow in anticipation she knew would be dashed. As much as Salvisas clung to his brief touch and the caring firmness of his command, she cursed herself in confusion.  
And Salvisa cursed herself for lying to her Bishop even when she meant to tell the truth. As much as she wanted his presence, wanted his touch, that same yearning left her profoundly uncomfortable around Sasarai.  
Still standing straight and proper, Salvisa carefully removed her boots and carefully dusted herself off before taking her seat on the soft couches. It may have been only her expectations after so many days of camping and walking, but Salvisa felt like she would almost melt into the softness of the velvet around her. Still, she sat as straight as an arrow upon the couch.  
A hand on her shoulder, and one word, “Relax.”  
Salvisa obeyed, and turned to see the shadow of a knowing smile leave Sasarai’s face.  
“I don’t expect an answer for a while,” said the Bishop to everyone present, “So if you wish to take your time to clean off, I know there are some excellent baths here.”

Not more than half an hour later, Salvisa’s towel fell to the ground. She slipped into the hot water of the Calerian baths, and Freya, mimicking her every move with a cautious uncertainty, followed suit.  
Freia gasped as she entered the bathes, never expecting the water to be not only warm, but hot as it steamed into the cold, fragrant air.  
“Do all first-class citizens get hot baths like this?” Freia asked. Her full breasts floated with the rich mineral water until she found a seat near Salvisa at the edge of the baths.  
“No, not nearly.” Salvisa admitted, “At least in the Temple Guard, we take whatever we can get where we’re assigned.”  
“Really?” Freia plunged her head into the hot spring water. Her dark hair fanned out gracefully, as aware as Salvisa ever was of the terrible scars that crossed every side of the peasant girl. Salvisa couldn’t find it in herself to say that she knew what would cause every mark, only by its location and shape. Such was the learning Salvisa had gained when she asked her late husband about what he did at work.  
“Yes.” Salvisa said when Freia re-emerged,”I might be a first-class citizen, but I’ve also been part of the Temple Guard for too many years. We’re more likely to find a stream like near Manastash than a bath like this. For all the honor, it’s too little pay for too hard work. I was never ‘First-class’ enough to expect more. You’re putting on some weight- you look good.”  
“Thanks. It’s nice to not be so hungry all the time anymore. Do you think we can peek into the men’s bath?”  
“Why would you want to do that? It’s not like there’s anything we haven’t seen.”  
“Yeah, but it’s never been just guys.”  
Salvisa raised an eyebrow, wondering what fantasies the girl was envisioning. “There’s nothing interesting. How would you feel if they were looking in on us?”  
“I’d give them a show.” Freia made a devilish smile and leaned over Salvisa to make an exaggerated mock-kiss at the air by her cheek.   
“Who would you want to hook with that?”  
“Sasarai’s really cute.”  
“Careful, he looks nice but he’s really a dirty old man.” Salvisa teased and dropped her voice into a seductive purr, “We’d have to make it very interesting to turn that head.”  
“Eh? And you’d know how?” Freia laughed, “Lop’s more my type anyway, but there’s a few nice boys in the village. Sasarai’s really old?”  
“Do you remember a few days ago he said we were going to look for someone he knew from the Fire Bringer War?”  
Freia nodded.  
“That was over two centuries ago.”  
“You’re kidding! No wonder Corbin looked at him funny. So do you like anyone? Corbin?”  
“He’s already engaged to a countess, and never really struck my like more than a colleague anyway. Lop’s a little too young for me. Sasarai looks too much like my son.” The last part was added on the defensive. Salvisa could no longer say she felt the similarity, but it was equally important that other people might not, “No one else, really.”

Salvisa ended the thread of conversation with her own effort to rinse the weeks of grease and grime from her head. She had felt almost young again with how the sand and dust began to pepper her braids over the last few days, but as she ran her fingers through strands that unkinked themselves after days of confinement, the dust disappeared in a fog of bubbles until all was once more ancient white, fine, and straight.

“What does it matter, anyway? I’m widowed. I’m old already. I might even become a Furball by next year.” Salvisa mused aloud when she surfaced, referencing an old story about a mage who managed to find immortality, but not eternal youth. He wizened and shrank with the burden of the years until he was indistinguishable from the limbless monsters that wandered the plains.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evening continues in the Calerian inn, and Salvisa learns what hospitality the title of Bishop can provide, and what other interest the Bishop in their midst has in her.
> 
> Start of some OCxSasarai, but I promise it is not the focus of the story from here on.

Salvisa stood by the windows that lit the main room of the suite. She combed her still-damp hair with her tortoiseshell comb. The sun had started to sink in the sky and Salvisa had pulled a curtain aside so she could watch the sunset. The cold of the coming night barely made its way through the glass, and was further staved off by smokeless, runic fire lit at every lamp and the preciously-inlaid brazier at the center of the arrangement of couches.

The maid had returned with a reply for the Bishop before lighting the fires. The man he sought would not arrive until the next afternoon, at the earliest. Sasarai received the news with a congenial smile, assuring everyone else that the chance to explore Caleria for a day was a lucky one and that a day or two extra in their journey was unlikely to matter. It was over these thoughts that Salvisa considered the sunset and the lighting of fires at the old city’s watchtowers. She couldn’t stand to be so far away from Crystal Valley, so deep in uncertainty. 

“Are you alright, Salvisa?” It was Freia  
“Fine, just thinking.”  
“Would you like me to braid your hair?”  
“That would be nice, thanks.”  
Salivsa gave Freia her comb before sitting down on a fine wooden chairs at the grand meeting table. Freia parted Salvisa’s long white hair and began slowly braiding it in her crooked fingers. Salvisa didn’t dare look to the side when she heard another chair pull out next to her, for fear of ruining Freia’s careful, difficult work.  
“Did you have a good afternoon?” Sasarai asked.  
“Yes. You weren’t wrong about the baths here. Yourself?”  
“For me, splendid. Though Corbin is regretting I taught Lop how to make a rat tail.”  
“Hey!” Corbin called out angrily, “Because of you I can barely sit now.”  
Sasarai laughed. “Then you’ll have to get him back.”

Freia finished Salvisa’s hair into an excellent mimicry of the plaits she normally fashioned for herself. She had hardly tied off the last braid when Lop emerged from the bedroom and invited Freia for an evening of exploring the town. Grinning furiously, the girl agreed, but Sasarai held up his hand in a gesture that they should stop.

“I’m sorry, but there is a curfew in place here. You won’t find much to do accept be robbed or arrested.”  
Lop pouted briefly, “Then we’ll go out tomorrow, before your guy gets here. So then, what have we got for fun in here?”  
“Dinner will come shortly. If you can stay awake through all of that, I know some dice or card games.”  
“What does that mean?”

Lop did not need to wait long to find out. He had hardly kicked his feet up on one of the couches when a knock at the door announced a procession of servants, each carrying a different dish to the meeting table. For everyone but Sasarai, it was a feast of mysteries. Freia and Lop knew little more than bread, porridge, and roasted game. Corbin and Salvisa knew something of luxury, but none this rare. Over three dozen different dishes covered the table by the time most of the servants had passed, and the few that remained constantly filled the diner’s crystal glasses with mulled wine. Only Sasarai could hope identify most the dishes that came from every corner of Harmonia and some from even farther abroad, and for the rest even the Bishop required the help of the servants.

The lamps needed to be relit by the time Salvisa put her last piece of fruit from the dessert course in her mouth. Her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the room, the heat of the spiced food, and with the enjoyment of her company and the conversation. Still, she was more than a little concerned with how unsteadily Lop made his way over to the couches. He sprawled across one, his head on one armrest and his feet dangling off another.

“S-so what game we got, Bishop?” Lop asked with extreme concentration, furrowing his brow in an effort not to slur his words too much.  
“I was going to suggest cards, but I think you’re in a better mind for dice. Do you know ‘Chinchirorin?”  
“Shyure. Freia, you play’n’?”  
“Yeah, I’ll try.”

By the end of the night, Corbin had quit while he was ahead and retired to one of the two smaller rooms reserved for the main guests’ entourage. Lop and Freia had become increasingly close over the night, until Salvisa bade the two to continue in privacy if they had to. Salvisa felt the length of the day weigh on her at last. She yawned, covering her mouth.  
“Done for the day?” Sasarai asked.  
“I can stay up a little longer, if you want to.” A pause filled the room, and a light flickered out of existence. “You know, I think you remind me a little of Auxier too.”  
“Really? How so?”  
“Just little things.” Salvisa grinned in embarrassment, and kept her gaze on the thick carpet in front of her. She didn’t want to look into his eyes and see what sort of expression he had. She felt exposed and naked enough to have admitted what she did. “The tone of your voice sometimes. I can’t describe, but it’s nice.”  
“Come next to me.”  
She started up, hesitated, and with delicate steps so fast she wouldn’t have time to change her mind padded across the thick carpet to set at the Bishop’s side.  
“That sort of tone?”  
“Yes.”  
“How can I put this… did your husband ever ‘bring his work home’?”  
Salvisa could feel a sudden flush of anticipation between her thighs. She nodded slowly. “Are you trying to say what I think you are?”  
“I think so. Would you-?”  
“I would, I really would.” Salvisa curled her chin towards her chest, “But it wouldn’t be right, either way- as a matter of rank, it’s unethical.”  
“I understand. But that’s what I like about you, your thoughtfulness.”  
“Really, now? What else?” The torment of denying herself was almost physical pain, little assuaged by laying her head on the Bishop’s shoulder.  
“You’re kind, even to the third-class citizens. You’re brave. You’re beautiful-”  
“Stop it, no I’m not.”  
Sasarai seized her chin and forcefully directed Salvisa’s eyes towards his. “You’d dare disagree with me?” he chided.  
She was suddenly aware of how his fingers pulled at her skin, no longer firm with youth, nor yet sagging into full jowls, but soft like the paper of a letter that had been crumpled up and smoothed out many times. Salvisa was aware too of the expressions flickering in the Bishop’s watery sage-green eyes, at once wide with youth, tired with centuries, bright with a strange mix of cruel pleasure, love, and concern in the room’s fading light. She found it in herself to smile. She hadn’t known such eyes in over a decade.  
“No. No, your Grace.”  
“Good. I promise you, you will always be beautiful.” Sasarai dropped his hand and hugged Salvisa closely. “I don’t think I can ask any more of you.”  
“Thank you,” she said, squeezing him back, “I’m sorry, but I just can’t now. When this is all over… I’ll let you know.”

Salvisa retired to the room initially picked for both her and Freia, though first she had to kick out a naked and sweaty Lop. She was jealous yet glad that at least someone could secure their pleasure for the evening.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bright winter morning in Caleria turns to terror when the city comes under attack.

The next morning began late, but pleasantly. Salvisa hid her thoughts about the previous night beneath a calm demeanor, but neither of the peasants had any such inclination- of course, it would have been impossible to call any portion of their activities “discreet”. 

To get to anything in the old city of Caleria was impossible without passing by the colorful whirl of tents and the merchants who owned them. As many vendors seemed to be foreigners as Harmonian, and their wares were equally exotic. Much was of little interest to Salvisa, but Freia begged for the potch to buy barely an envelope of herbs, and almost became lost among the fabric merchants selling everything from silk brocades to skins. Salvisa allowed the girl enough for the dried leaves and flower buds she desired, with a careful eye and her Temple Guard uniform warning off the merchants who would have otherwise have shooed Freia away as a thief.

The men had their own interests that separated them early. Corbin, Salvisa knew from conversation over breakfast, wanted some souvenir for his fiancée. Salvisa found herself a little envious that he found a bond among the aristocracy he expected would be stronger than treason. Lop milled aimlessly among the crowds, watched at a distance by Sasarai, whose smile today had a nostalgic cast. 

No one was expecting to hear the alarm bells along the city walls peal their warnings. There was a moment of confusion as the metallic noise pierced through the clamor of life before their meaning settled into the consciousness of the people in Caleria. Most had taken shelter indoors before she first scream of magic shot through the air, followed by the flustered drum of wings. Salvisa seized Freia’s hand to drag her from a linen merchant’s tent and looked up to see a black shadow pass before the morning sun. The shape was unmistakable- it was the powerful lean lines of a dragon.

Salvisa searched the quickly emptying streets for her other companions but saw no one.  
“Are you alright, Freia?” she asked  
“It’s a dragon…” Freia answered in awe, then gathered herself together to firmly answer, “Yes.”

Salvisa’s hopes that the dragon was a harmless stray were dashed with the first gout of fire poured from the dragon’s mouth and scorched the city. Salvisa drew her sword immediately and rushed towards the beast, which shifted the pace of its wingbeats to slow down for landing in Caleria’s main thoroughfare. As she drew close, Salvisa could feel the force of the dispelled air on her face, and smell the feral stink of the beast on that wind. It was more than feral, it was undead. In its half-open, bulging, sickly eyes and the flyblown gashes in its sides Salvisa recognized the monster. It was the one she had left for dead on the road to Caleria. With a chill she realized the poisonous red worms they fought were not scavenging; they had been so hasty to consume a fresh kill they feasted on its corrupted flesh while unholy life still filled the dragon’s bones.

Salvisa called upon the Rune of Decay, not knowing how well its powers would work against a thing that continued moving despite death. The zombie wavered in its flight and landed with a stumble. It fixed a clouded eye on Salvisa and let loose another stream of stinking flame, but this one fell short of its mark and the fire barely toasted the forgotten debris in the street. With a roar of frustration, the creature lumbered forth towards Salvisa on limbs that sloughed off scales with every step.

An inferno suddenly wrapped around the dragon, drowning both the monster’s guttural call and the Freia’s invocation of her rune’s magic. Squinting against the heat, Salvisa advanced to the dragon’s flank. If there was muscle enough to flex those undead claws, there would be muscle enough to sever and render useless. The dragon, slowed by the Rune of Decay and distracted by Freia’s magic, was too late to notice Salvisa approach with her Harmonian blade. The keen edge bit into exposed tendon in the dragon’s forearm. The muscle snapped with a sickening, bloodless pop. Salvisa scrambled away as the dragon sought to regain balance and its lame claws flopped in the dust. It made no move to recoil in pain, and craned its head to seek out the newest source of frustration.

The dragon reared up, beating its wings and kicking up Calerian dust like a giant, unholy parody of a chicken. It fluttered away from Salvisa to give itself room to avenge its injury, and Salvisa backed away herself to gain room for escape. Salvisa saw from underneath the dragon that she and Freia were no longer alone and that Corbin was fast approaching from behind with Lop and Sasarai not too far behind.

Between Corbin’s immense speed and the dragon’s blind backward flight, there was enough force for Corbin to bury his sword deep in the monster’s hindquarters. The dragon kicked out but missed by a hair’s breadth as Corbin continued forward, twisting a slice of rotten flesh from the zombie as the Harmonian wrenched his sword free. Salvisa risked a glance at Freia and saw her face contorted with uncertainty with two of her friends too close to the enemy for a clear shot with her Rune.

Sasarai raised his hand and released a golden light that wrapped around the living combatants. It was a warm light, Salvisa thought as the glow faded, like lying between warm furrows of a field in the spring sun. 

“Once more, Freia!” Sasarai called out.

Freia let slip an explosion that wrapped around the dragon and Corbin. Corbin escaped completely unharmed, the shimmer of magic falling away from him as much as the cinders. He seemed bewildered at first, but caught himself and turned, ready to fight again. Salvisa missed the spell, but just barely. When her eyes recovered from the blinding light, she saw the dragon try to step forward on its wounded leg and find it wanting for strength. Her eyes opened wide as she saw the bloated body fall towards her, obscuring the sky and everything else.

Salvisa expected a crushing weight, and the heat of a body to grind her into the cold earth. But the impact was surprising painless, though unbelievably heavy. It wrapped against her with all the warmth of the cold winter air, and the grainy wetness of rancid fat. With frightening suddenness, Salvisa found herself not surrounded by the decaying zombie of a dragon in the present, but with the freezing weight of snow she knew from over a decade ago. 

It was black, that sudden, suffocating coldness. Salvisa could not tell up from down, and her only thought was to where Auxier was, that he could take her out of the terrible snowfall that threw them from their carriage. She knew only that it was cold, too cold, and her body ached, and the child within her was kicking fiercely.

Just as suddenly, Salvisa returned to the present. She found her feet, wondered at the change in her balance and once more re-lived the overwhelming loss of knowing that she no longer had a child, and then that she no longer had Auxier or a daughter. Before her was a dragon, burned, rotten, and rent at every limb, raging as it struggled to find footing on crippled limbs and broken wings. Behind her were two strong arms pulling Salvisa upright.   
“Are you alright?” Asked a stranger’s gravelly voice that barely registered on her consciousness.  
Salvisa bawled out a loss many years unspoken, wishing destruction on those that harmed her. A dozen years ago, the Verloren Pass turned a blind eye to her curse. Now the zombie, just as unfeeling, crumpled into a wizened husk. She could taste magic in the air bloom from behind her as the crackle of lightning turned the remains to uncountable particles of glassy sand that vanished upon the wind into the streets of Caleria.


	23. Author Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some thoughts I have about writing, not a real story update.

It is getting on nine months since I started writing “Rising Star - Falling Star”, or as I have also titled it in other incarnations, NaXXWriMo and Suikoden VI. The idea gestated not unlike a cicada, spending four years in my head before finally erupting onto the page.

At the beginning, I knew the very basics of what I wanted. I knew I wanted to use/invent the rune of change, and that I wanted to have a female protagonist. While against the grain for the 108 Star typology, I wanted to turn the conflict between Tir and Teo in Suikoden I on its head, with instead of a hero son fighting his father, it would be a hero mother fighting her son. I felt very strongly that the final fight should take place in Harmonia as well. With these thoughts I had a rough idea for where I wanted to begin, but no words to begin it. I struggled with what became the first half of the first chapter for a while (for once, I swore to write everything down in order- if I had an interesting idea, I had to work to the point of putting it on paper. It works well for me), until I finally had a burst of inspiration and some freetime to place my ideas to (digital) paper.

Looking back on how far I’ve come since then, I’m happy with where I have gone. Perhaps I took the tone and setting too dark and serious -- that might be a natural outgrowth of an engineer reading WH40K novels-- but it also feels right. I cringe and smile at the same time with my decision to go with name themes- “Salvisa”, “McKee”, “Ravenna” and “Corbin” are all towns in Kentucky. I do not recommend naming characters after towns you see and hear about often.  
The people of Manastash (named after a valley in Washington) gained their names during a Ring Cycle viewing, and so are named after those characters, easy with “Freia”, “Walse”, and “Erda”, but I took more liberties with “Don”, “Lop”, “Flossie”, and “Linde” (Donner, Loge, Flosshilde, and Sieglinde). Bram stands alone a relic from my first draft.

Probably the most difficult thing for me to write was the open, casual racism that is present through the first several chapters. To describe the structure of a slave society is easy; to write the internal justifications of the system without coming across as cartoon villainy is difficult, especially when I want to do so as a flaw for the main character to overcome. In the end, I resorted to historical descriptions again. It still felt emotionally painful to write such morally disgusting things. It is also hard to find ways to fit in other characters organically- while setting the story so far in the future locks out many favorites, some favorites like Viki and Jeanne are difficult for me to put in organically, so I probably will leave them out except in a one-off (sorry!)

My favorite parts have being trying to adapt the strictness of a video game to a small-scale adventure story, and to try and find the feelings and thoughts that the player the must supply the protagonist on a purely external (situation, physical motion, background music, and voice) basis. Also, I have enjoyed trying to make characters that do not necessarily fit the mold of “good”, but can still be protagonists. Lop in particular comes to mind, as I have tried to write him as the mostly benign sociopath. Reading over my prose, I wonder how much ties to my own persona. There is certainly a lot of fire, nausea, and death, more than there are tears. There is also a lot of laughing and smiling.

My favorite character may be Walse, as nothing seems to go easy for him with Salvisa on her path to hero-dom. 

As a teaser for those who read this far, I can promise that we will see Geddoe and Yuber near wordcount 31k and 33k respectively (I confess, I am breaking these into chapters weekly as I edit). A young strategist comes onto the scene at 36k words. We see Bram next at about 40k. Nash and Sierra appear at 43k words. As of writing this, I have 52k words down in raw form but am only halfway through my outline. I hope I can maintain your interest for that many more updates!

For anyone interested in my inspirations:  
The creature hunted on the island is a capybara.  
I imagined Manastash as Tonsberg, Norway.  
The captain and fire at the Manastash fort take from the story of LaLaurie in New Orleans  
The underground city is based on Derinkuyu underground city in Turkey.  
The monsters fought on the way to Caleria are based on Mongolian Death Worms


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After destroying the dragon that attacked Caleria, Salvisa gets her chance to meet with Captain Geddoe of the Harmonian Southern Frontie Defense Force and convince him to join he cause.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” It was the strange voice again, and Salvisa found herself sitting in a small, white-plastered office. The flag of Harmonia hung at all sides of the room. She looked around her and saw her friends, Sasarai, Corbin, Freia, and Lop, roughened up but ready. In front of her was the speaker, an older man dressed in roughly-stitched grey boiled leather, his black hair equally wild and crude cascading along a craggy face set with one tired almond-shaped eye. A black patch covered his right eye.

Like waking from a dream, Salvisa remembered meeting with everyone where the dragon had landed, and moving briskly to the headquarters of the Defense Force. Words must have been exchanged, but Salvisa couldn’t remember them.

“I’m alive.” Salvisa said. It was the most truth she could muster.  
“Good. Now Sasarai, I thought you were supposed to be quelling the latest Fire Bringer.” The man pronounced his words with a hint of accusation, “Why are you all the way in Caleria so soon for an audit?”  
“That battle was over before it began. You were nearby for business I intended to conduct anyway.”  
“So it is. And you have Temple Guard with you? Not your usual entourage.”  
“The years change. This is Salvisa and Corbin, and commoners Freia and Lop.”  
“Can I suppose they helped you with the Fire Bringer?”  
“Of course, Geddoe,” Sasarai beamed, glad he could display his hand at last, “You speak of Salvisa, though she dislikes the title. These three were instrumental in escorting her here.”  
“Ha. Glad to know.” The man made the barest hint of a smile and turned to Salvisa, saying, “I suppose you wish to cross into the Grasslands?”  
“No.” Salvisa answered firmly. “I want your help.”  
“Why do you want more help than that? There’s no love anywhere in the Grasslands for helping the Temple in Harmonia.”  
“I thought of that, for first few nights. But as a result of all that has led to me being called the Flame Champion, if I leave I would leave everyone in Manastash and the province surrounding it to Harmonia’s mercy. Not very long ago, I would have told myself, ‘they’re only third-class citizens’, but I can’t say that anymore.” Salvisa tented her fingers, her elbows supported upon her shaking knees. “Forgive me if this sounds insane- what I would like to do is make a formal resistance. If it takes a coup to stop Harmonia from acquiring True Runes or leaving half its citizens undefended by law, I would risk it. The People’s Faction is not what it was, but there may be enough strength between the second- and first- class citizens who support that cause to make a serious threat. I only request that you be willing to provide an open route for trade and, if necessary, escape.”

“Ha. You must be insane.” Geddoe answered, not unpleasantly, “Sasarai, you’ve sure found something. I’m only the captain of one unit, but you have my backing. For the rest of us in the Frontier Defense Force, well, if we’d be Temple Guard if not for our class. You may find more idealists than realists. Among the civilians, there are plenty of merchants more mercenary than you’d believe.”  
“You mean that?” Salvisa asked, unable to believe this news.  
Geddoe nodded firmly, “It won’t be the first time. I will send for Zexen, the Grasslands, and the Camaro Free Knights areas, but of the Harmonian Southern Frontier Defense Force, I can guarantee you a flexible definition of ‘Harmonian’ and ‘Frontier’. I may also ask what help Futch of the Dragon Knights is willing to spare- this is the second dragon zombie we have faced this season.”  
“You have all my gratitude!” Salvisa exclaimed, and though sitting, she folded until her small chest touched her knees.  
“I only wish I had all your bravery when I lost my people all those years ago.”  
“Please, it’s easy to be brave when you know there’s already someone to back you.” Salvisa admitted, turning briefly to Sasarai before also assessing the feelings of Freia and Lop. She found no argument. “We need to return as soon as we can. Will you join us?”  
“I will follow.” Geddoe said, “As soon as I can send word to my allies, which I am sure will be as yours. I will also arrange to begin the advance of supply lines.”

They spent the rest of the day in Caleria. Though the two curved knives that Lop had brought to the fight were stolen from a luckless weapons dealer during the alarm, the boy found the man grateful enough to gift the items. The scratches and outright stink of death on the blade, Salvisa wondered, might have had a little more to do with the decision than plain gratitude. Salvisa had hoped for some respite following her second bath in as many days, but instead encountered a parade of Caleria’s faces of power, and any other lucky or charismatic enough to press their way through to the heroes of the day, and especially the Fire Bringer. It was enough to make Salvisa look forward to the two week trek back through the desert and the Waste. 

That journey was uneventful. But the sight that greeted Salvisa upon her return was almost as amazing as Caleria’s splendor. In their month of absence a fort had been erected upon the hilltop, and the tent city that had mushroomed so quickly evolved into more sturdy halls and barracks of wood and sturdy stone. To even greater surprise, more than human Harmonians had found their way to Manastash. There were more than a few dwarves who found their way to Manastash, likely more curious about tales of an underground city in human territory than anything else. They had only been there a few days and their dealings with humans were tense until Salvisa made a public order that if there was no concept of class, there would be no concept of “subhuman” either, and even that word would be forbidden. She slunk back to the large underground chamber designated as the war room after the pronouncement, disappointed in herself for not being able to feel like what she said was true.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa learns what has happened in Manastash during her month-long journey to and from Caleria. Left alone late at night with Sasarai, she makes a confession to her general. Corbin brings news of a mysterious visitor.

Endless hours of meetings followed in a haze as Sasarai’s commanders updated them on the past month and where they saw Manastash’s standing in the present and future. The picture was not altogether dismal. In the second half of the month there had been several minor skirmishes in the villages surrounding Manastash, suspected to be more intended as probes of the renegade army’s strength and drains on its precious resources. The litany of complaints that had arisen over the last month, both from soldier and civilian, were mostly either minor, resolved, or both. By the end of the long talks, words were beginning to meld into each other as an incoherent soup in Salvisa’s mind. She was still lost in attempts at concentration on the large map Harmonia spread out on the meeting table long after the other commanders filtered out.

“Sasarai, you’re still here?” Salvisa asked.  
“You should go to sleep, it’s been a whole day of travel and discussion.”  
“Not yet,” Salvisa smiled at his concern, “It didn’t come up earlier- did you say you knew a strategist? Where is he?”  
“I’m familiar with several Harmonia employs from time to time.” Sasarai nodded, moving to Salvisa’s side. He laid a finger on the map on the table, “Of course, anyone learning or teaching locally would be in Soldelt Academy, if you would risk going back to Crystal Valley. Seika’s a little stronger in its graduates as of late, but that journey takes months we don’t have. I know a few people’s hometowns, but then we might as well stay here and send couriers along the main roads.”  
“We’ll go to Crystal Valley.” Salvisa murmured.  
“What?”  
“Yes. I don’t think Holy Harmonia would believe I’d be so stupid, and with Soldelt there I’m sure we can find someone. I’m hopeful- if I see Bram, maybe...” Salvisa leaned over the table, tracing her finger from the freshly-inked location of Manastash up to the main road, and then to Crystal Valley. “In Caleria I said ‘when this is all over,’ remember? I don’t know when that will be, but whether it’s next year or next week, I don’t think I can wait that long.”  
Salvisa’s hand met the Bishop’s over the forest near Manastash, her calloused fingers weaving into his until both filled the space between the fertile plains and Harmonia’s mountainous southern border.  
“You are sure?” Sasarai asked.  
Salvisa squeezed his hand with a barely audible hum of assent.

He took her waist and pulled her close. In that moment, Salvisa was never more sure of what she wanted. Wrapping her arms over his shoulders, she accepted with her own salivating hunger the eager press of his lips against hers. The flavor of his lips, his breath, his tongue, was more sweetly intoxicating than brandywine. Salvisa felt her cheeks grow hot and all her awareness fade except for his presence and his touch.

Somehow his small hands found their way underneath the coarse fabric of her shirt, caressing roughly up her tightly muscled sides until they just came to the soft, rising mound of her breast. Then the deep, twisting pressure of his grasp turned into a fiery raking down her back. She moaned, and the moan turned into a coo, and faded into a coquettish laugh as he dug his fingers deeper into the muscles of her lower back and the soft fat above her hips. She pulled him closer, wanting to drink in more of his kisses, and for his hands to know her so thoroughly she would be still red with his touch at daybreak.

Courses of fire dug through her back once more, then down her heaving ribs, and down her fair neck. He squeezed the meat of her buttocks and slipped a leg between her thighs, leaning into the aching tenderness between them. He wrapped her pale hair around his delicate fingers and pulled her head back. His sweet tongue forced its way into her mouth, silencing her intoxicated laughter but not her groans as her hips moved with their own will to milk their own pleasure from his body.

“Sir!” There was a knock at the door that jerked both of them out of their moment. In a start,  
Salvisa turned around, flushing redder. It was Corbin, and he had opened the door slightly to get his words in.  
“Excuse me, Your Grace, Captain- you have a visitor who is demanding to see you promptly.”  
“Right, we’ll meet him shortly.”  
Corbin closed the door gently. Salvisa looked at Sasarai, and hugged him close with a quiet laugh.  
“Thank you,” she said, “It’s been too long.”  
He smiled back, flushed and bright. “Same here… ah, now look what you’ve done.”  
Sasarai took a handkerchief from his pocket and spat in it, and dabbed the dark bloom of wetness on his pants.  
“I’m so sorry!” she clapped her hands to her mouth, “Can I do anything to help?”  
“I’ll be fine. Though perhaps this will require you to receive a light punishment later?”  
There was a purr in his voice that made her spine tingle and her mouth begin to water again. “Mmm.” She nodded.  
Sasarai smiled mischievously and guided her out the door of with his hand lightly at the small of her back.

The weight of realizing that she had been caught in the act no sooner than she had made her decision descended slowly on Salvisa’s mind as she and Sasarai’s footsteps echoed the quiet hallways towards the main hall. Her skin was alive against her coarse peasant’s tunic, sensitive to every brush of fabric against red scratch marks as she moved. Salvisa swallowed any doubts she may have had with a deep breath. Corbin was Temple Guard; he knew the need for discretion just as well as she did.

When they entered the great hall with its grand murals, still peeling but in the process of restoration by some interested artist, Salvisa saw her general pause and bristle before she even could make out the figure waiting behind the light of two braziers in the high, arched entrance.

“You are?” Salvisa asked, slowly taking in the visitor’s features. He was a creature of Hell’s forge. The man was tall, and taller still from the ebony armor he wore with its heeled riding boots and a helmet that both sank low over his face and stabbed the air above him with its blood-red horns. Loose hair cascaded down his back like liquid gold, and a large sword was belted, scabbardless, at his hip. Salvisa could not yet see his face, but as handsome a figure he seemed from a distance, Salvisa felt an ugly disgust well up in her throat from the pit of her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the steamiest it will ever get, promise.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa speaks briefly with the visitor to her fortress, and makes a decision against Sasarai's advice. Whether it will be something truly regrettable remains to be seen. She and her general next make their way in disguise to the enemy's beautiful capital city, Crystal Valley, in search of an ally.

“I am an ally.” The visitor said.  
“Yuber…” Sasarai growled. Until now, Salvisa didn’t believe he could even get angry, but the man was seething. She wondered if it was some magic of this ebony-armored man, but there was too much familiarity in Sasarai’s unspoken accusations.  
“Of course,” the man named Yuber removed his helmet, to reveal a handsome face beset by two different eyes, one silver and almost human, the other red like a demon cat’s. “I am glad an ally of two wars would recognize me.”  
“Tch. You’re no one’s ally but your own.” Sasarai countered, “Salvisa, if you court the strength of this man, you court one who will leave as soon as the tide might turn against you”  
“Now, surely that’s no way to speak after our dealings in Dunan and the Grasslands.” Yuber smiled, not with a trace of pleasantry in his mirth.  
“He desires only blood and chaos.” Sasarai raised his voice, and it was tense with hatred towards Yuber even if his words were only directed towards Salvisa, however loudly, “Would you call that demon an ally?”  
Salvisa pulled her general close, asking, “What is this history between you two?”  
“We fought against the Dunan Republic, before it was such. That is true.” Sasarai whispered harshly, “But he turned tail when faced with the possibility of defeat. As for the Grasslands, my brother and I both were for Harmonia until that bastard turned coat and Yuber disappeared without a second thought once Luc was betrayed. That man is a coward.”  
“Ah, so wise after all these years, Bishop?” The knight’s words were full of mockery and cruelty, and Salvisa could hear Yuber lick up Sasarai’s distress almost as easily as the Bishop did her kisses. “But self-serving coward or not, betrayer or not, can you deny my sword now? I would be offended if you even pretend I would enjoy the mastery of your ‘High Priest’, your ‘Absolute One’s’ Rune.”  
Sasarai slurred an unintelligible condemnation.  
“By my general’s assessment,” Salvisa said, “I cannot care for your presence. But by my own, I will tolerate it.”  
“Salvisa!”  
“If you are the consummate betrayer, then that is all I expect.” Salvisa said firmly, “Find your own empty room, should you need one. The second you go against my own is the second you will find yourself alone.”  
Salvisa didn’t think she would ever see a man smile so wide. She almost expected the face beneath those mismatched eyes to split in half. But the man known as Yuber bowed as deeply as a slave, helmet in hand, and arose to his own imposing height with that same devilish grin.  
“Gladly.” He said, “At least we know where we stand,”  
The black knight with his blood-red horns disappeared behind the two, with Salvisa not sure if she hear the clinking of his armor or merely assumed it.  
“My gods,”Salvisa held Sasarai close, “My gods, forgive me.”

Bundled against an unusually cold morning, Salvisa and Sasarai left for Crystal Valley the next day. For speed and secrecy, they allowed no one else to accompany them, no matter how earnest the entreaty. Salvisa was half afraid Freia would throw a tantrum at being denied the chance to assist her friend and heroine, but the girl took the news with some grace in the presence of her parents. Lop seemed only too glad at his sudden promotion to the side of Sasarai’s commanders. Corbin had long disappeared into the countryside to be Manastash’s eyes and ears from afar.

The journey was cold but suffused with privacy. Before the harvest there were few along the roads; now that winter settled into Harmonia they could pass from one night’s shelter to the next without seeing the tracks of another in the dirt, nor in the snow as they came farther from the rain shadow of the Wastes and towards the fertile plains surrounding the capital. The hardship of travel was nothing new, but each morning and its promises of the hours of intimate conversation with Sasarai along the deserted roads, and the serious but tender enjoyment of acting the part of a second-class traveler’s house slave, were brighter than the sun shining on fresh-fallen snow.

Salvisa was glad for her place in this act, silent and a few steps behind Sasarai, as he handed his forged papers to a disinterested guard posted at the southern gate of Crystal Valley. Her heart beat so fast at the prospect of once more entering the city of Crystal Valley, as white and blue as the sky of an eternal summer, that she wasn’t sure if all her training could keep her voice and hands steady.

“Master,” Salvisa said demurely as they passed the gate and into the massive city. “There’s not much time before nightfall. Have you decided where shall we go?”

They had been bandying ideas back and forth over the last few days, but hadn’t come up with anything concrete by the time the flow of travelers into Crystal Valley had thickened to the point they needed to work more discreetly. With his many years as Priest General, he had a firm hand on the pulse of not just the stars of the Harmonian military, but their families and residences as well.

“The market district.” Sasarai answered. “We may have a chance of finding Bain before the auctions close, or catch him on the way to his apartment on the way to Soldelt.”

So they would first try to catch the attention of Lord Bain Silverberg of Kathei Province. He was no aristocrat but a commoner of great means, so much so that his family was fast becoming a by-word for wealth, especially in the seaboard provinces where his holdings were greatest. Bain, Sasarai had said, was of famously cunning stock but more than held his position at the top of his class at Soldelt by his own merits. He studied further abroad in Seika before returning to his homeland and reaping the rewards of his studies on the high seas- not in war, as many at the Temple had wished, but in trade. That money and cunning together allowed him to purchase a baronetcy and significant lands in the east of the Holy Kingdom of Harmonia, enough that nervous aristocrats conspired to require that Bain maintain residence in the capitol for half of each year.

Sasarai led his pretended slave through the streets of Crystal Valley to the market district. It had been a long time since Salvisa had the pleasure of being in the capital at this time of year, tainted as the experience was now by circumstance. The entire city may have been carved from snow, with its busy paved streets and the white-washed buildings rising alongside every broad avenue. In other seasons the roofs were painted deep blue but now they were covered in fresh snow. The sky this winter afternoon was crisp, clear, and pale. The sky, walls, and stones of the city provided a calm contrast to the continual action of the market.

This was not the dusty main road of Caleria, where tented stalls mingled haphazardly and prime spots were guarded by toughs at night. Crystal Valley prized its order, and an impenetrable system of permits, rules, and taxes kept its merchants sectioned by trade under color-coded banners, each marked with the emblem of the Circle Rune. And unlike Caleria, where night brought desertion except for the threat of thugs and thieves, the setting sun on Crystal Valley only brought out new color in its market district. The Night Market was a special jewel, illuminated by all sorts of exotic fare and merchandise scarcely seen anywhere else. Or at the very least, all in one place and by the light of both magic and oil lamp.

Salvisa regretted that she would not be able to see the glory of the Night Market, so brightly lit that it obscured the stars in the sky. Nor would she likely have a chance to explore the market district during the day. Sasarai flew through the crowds, past the rows of fruit merchants, tailors, jewelers, antiques dealers, and all the mercenaries, pickpockets, and rumormongers that plied their own trade among them. 

Salvisa was already breathless and aching when they breached the shining white facades to the backstreets beyond. To her practised eye, Salvisa found these streets less overtly guarded but more closely watched. There were no roaming Temple Guard, or even pacing common soldiers here. But the eyes of the beggars here were sharp with hunger and the promise of potch for their services, not dulled with the boredom of their duty. The watchers squatted in mud and sewage that spattered up the sides of motley grey and brown stone walls. Salvisa realized suddenly that she had never known that this, this dimly lit sewer of an alley, was also Crystal Valley.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the dingy back alleys of Crystal Valley, Salvisa seeks the aid of a Silverberg to aid her campaign. He can only give them advice, but the path Bain Silverberg leads them only deeper to the heart of the enemy's capital, to Harmonia's fabled One Library.

She stopped in time with Sasarai in front of one of the back alley doors. Much less a door than an archway covered with heavy and soiled cloth, it seemed nondescript except for the blaze carved in the crumbling brick next to it. It was not a sign that Salvisa recognized. Sasarai pulled aside the curtain and walked in, leaving a cloud of steam and smoke pouring into the cold alleyway. Salvisa followed without a word.

They had once more found the noise of the marketplace, but this one was different. There was no natural light, only the oily glow of green-glass lamps. The air was suffused with the heady odor of sweat, sharp alcohol, and strange cologne. The room may have had a past life as a theater, for candles hid behind reflectors that lined a wooden stage. Today, however, there was no art- only the babbling of a richly robed saleswoman as she described the finer points of an elven man beside her. The man was dressed in little more than britches, and as cut and blistered as his feet were, as chained were his hands, his face still wore unashamed pride. Other subhumans, some elf, some kobold, some dwarven, leaned against the wall at the back of the stage. They covered all ages, and all measures of despair and defiance. Salvisa felt her cheeks burn.

Sasarai clicked his tongue, directing her attention once more towards him. He had found a seat at a rough wooden table, beside an older man dressed in the square-cut, plain grey robes of a foreign province. He had a shock of red hair that had already turned grey at the temples, and his dark eyes constantly flickered with calculation as he watched the stage and listened to every word spoken by the auctioneer and her bidders.

“Lord Silverberg, I presume?” Sasarai asked.  
“If you’re wanting to make a sale, I won’t have a slave so old or so easily distracted.” Bain lifted a glass of something amber-colored to his lips, but Salvisa noticed it was only for show. It was just as full when he set it down.  
“That’s no way to treat an acquaintance. I remember when you were so high-”Sasarai marked with hand in the air,”What was that, forty years ago? Your father was serving the Bishopric for an annexation in the Nameless Lands, and had taken you along. In any case, she’s not for sale- it’s her rebellious spirit I rather enjoy.”  
Bain’s eyes stopped surveying the auction so closely and turned more intently towards Sasarai, “You age extraordinarily well, your Grace. But I’m sure you are aware of how news travels. I’m surprised to see you here.”  
“Indeed, but extraordinary gains require extraordinary risks. I expect you are familiar with that adage. Now, I am here, but it truly is my girl here who will make the final purchase. I will do nothing without her assent.”  
“Go on.”  
“I hear there is trouble in a no-account town of the southern provinces called Manastash. I think there are a lot of gains to be made there, if you are interested.”  
“Your Grace, I appreciate the offer, I really do.” Bain’s mouth widened into a smile, “But I cannot. I long ago made my decision, and my only battlefield will ever be in the marketplace and on the accounting books. I should even have wish for this rebellion to fail, for then I shall have the chance to buy up more slaves on the cheap.”  
Salvisa whispered into Sasarai’s ear. This man’s words at once seemed too cruel and too amiable.  
“So that is how you make your fortune? Cheap slaves?” Sasarai asked, not mockingly, “But I am sure you would be willing to pass on my business to someone else as a favor to them and to myself.”  
“The cheapest slaves.” Bain set his mouth into a firm, straight line and whispered “Between you and me, it is a wonder no one else in this sad state has realized it- if they believe to be working for their own gain, a man will grind himself to death for a pittance. Manumission is a strange thing. For your second question, perhaps you might try my brother. He is also in Crystal Valley, but was too tied up in the One Temple’s library to join me for as much of glass of wine tonight. I would swear, he’s in deep to need to research there and not in Soldelt’s archives.”  
“I appreciate it.” Sasarai nodded, and Salvisa nodded in turn. Her heart beat frantically, understanding the meaning of Bain’s words. It had been too much to hope that he would help them. Instead, they had to continue their journey closest to the heart of their enemy. And yet, that closeness to the enemy would also mean closeness to her son.   
“My Lord Silverberg,” Salvisa said suddenly, “We both thank you for your help.”  
“Your Grace, you should keep your ‘slave’ in control before we all are in trouble.” Bain smiled, “Before anyone else wonders who is really in command.”  
”Your advice is well taken.”  
And so, Salvisa found herself following her general obediently through the back alleys of Crystal Valley before they finally reached the main roads once more, and from there, the imposing fortress of the One Temple. She knew, of course, the main entrances of the Temple from every direction. They were the ones she had taken at the end of every mission, when it came time to report on her activities both domestic and foreign. She knew too the one, almost secret entrance only visited by serfs and slaves that accepted the grain tax and other food deliveries to the kitchens. The door Sasarai led her to now was not any of these, but a small, nearly invisible basement entrance to some unknown hallway. But she knew that this door, like the library, was in the southeast. Therefore, they would be close.  
“You never told me how you knew of these passages.” Salvisa whispered as they squeezed through one narrow hallway after another.  
“I grew up here, Salvisa.” Sasarai answered, “Did you really expect a young man like me to have no interest in where the servants came and went?”  
Salvia found no response except to say that the Bishop was not really that young. Expecting his only retort would be to say she was not really that old either, Salvisa held her tongue.   
“So you know this brother he was talking about?”  
“No, I had only kept track of Bain, and wasn’t even aware he had any siblings. But his father was always… particular? With how he expressed his attentions.”  
A tight and steep set of spiral stone steps led them to the library. Salvisa could already smell the character of the place before the secret panel to the servant’s corridor slid aside. The odor of thousands of musty books, with their vellum pages and leather bindings, flooded into the small landing of the hidden staircase. The bitter and musty smell of old librarians followed, tinged only faintly by the harried sweat of youthful academics.

Salvisa walked out carefully onto threadbare blue rugs that covered the library’s white stone floors. They had been installed ages ago to better muffle footsteps and keep the expanse serene and quiet. Salvisa could see Sasarai pad just as softly, and perhaps even more nervously. The One Temple was one of the few places where his face was definitely known. 

The strategist they sought was easy enough to find. The floor Sasarai and Salvisa found themselves turned out to be a balcony. From that perch, every table on the main floor was visible. None of the dark-stained wood tables were occupied save one, where a man with salt-and-pepper hair leaned over a small boy cursed with equally unruly orange locks. Salvisa studied the couple as she padded after Sasarai across the balcony. Both were walled behind stacks of books and piles of scrolls. The face of the man was similar to Bain’s, angular, deep-set, and wise. The child, who she could only assume was some relation, was so pale and freckled she had to assume he had eyebrows above his dark brown eyes. The boy buried one hand in his hair from time to time in frustration, and his stress was both provoked and assuaged by the calm whispers of his teacher.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa meets the brother of Bain Silverberg as he teaches his son in the One Library. Silverberg's answer surpises everyone. As they leave with their new strategist, Salvisa has a fateful encounter with her son, Bram.

Salvisa and her general made their way past the endless stacks of books on the second floor and down a marble staircase so old even the addition of a carpet down the middle could not disguise how the steps had been worn low by millions of feet over the ages.  
“It’s too quiet.” Salvisa whispered.  
“This is one of the least popular sections. There’s several more rooms like this in the library, but even larger.” Sasarai cleared his throat, “Excuse me, would you be Silverberg?”  
“Yes, Marten Silverberg.” The older man answered, slightly irritated at having been disturbed, “You’ve been slinking around for days, and now you approach? Why aren’t you in your official robes?”  
“I think you have me confused for someone else. I haven’t been in Crystal Valley for over a month; I’m sure my old robes have been unceremoniously destroyed by now. Do you understand me?”  
“You must be desperate coming here. And I suppose this woman is your leader, your ‘Fire Bringer’?”  
“Not desperate.” Salvisa corrected, “And that title should never have been attributed to me. I only wish to be prudent- we’ve already gotten assurance from Caleria for aid, but for everyone’s sake, I want this fight to be short.”  
“You could turn yourself in, right now.”  
“If knew that would be the better option, I would have done it long ago. There is much more at stake than my life, or Bram’s, if Harmonia acquires both halves of the Rune of Change.”  
“Interesting.” 

Both father and son were stone-faced, taking in the words of their sudden visitors. The boy played with his pen, twirling it in his fingers.

“We’d asked your brother, Bain. Though he declined to help, he recommended your talents.”  
“Unfortunately, you are a little late. I’m already in the employ of Harmonia, and I will see it through to the end. However…” Marten trailed into an uncomfortably long silence, “Regardless of my choices, Austen, would you like to take this challenge?”  
“Really, Dad? But-”  
“You’re only going to learn so much from books, and I would be remiss to have you skip such an excellent opportunity.”  
“Dad, I don’t think I can. And what if I lose?”  
“It would be no shame for some rebels to fall before Harmonia. I will make sure you will be safe should our Fire Bringer’s efforts be extinguished. So, Austen?”  
The boy turned paler, if that was possible, bit his lip until it flushed red beneath his dark brown eyes. He nodded, sensing that Marten’s question was just rhetoric.  
“Yes, Dad.” Austen stood up, looking green. “I’ll try not to let you down.”  
“I wouldn’t send you off if I thought you would.”  
“Don’t worry, we’ll give you all the support we can.” Salvisa added, “If you don’t mind, we should hurry back the way we came.”

Salvisa had hardly reached the marble staircase when she saw someone else out of the corner of her eye. She hurried up the steps and turned at the top to see who the interloper was before they made their escape. She took two terrified steps back down across the blue carpet, its backing showing through like wispy clouds on the sky.  
“Bram?” She asked, feeling her whole being tremble from her knees to her words.

The boy stopped, seeming just as shaken, and nodded. Bram pulled off the large blue hat of his office and crumpled the starched fabric between his hands. It had only been a month, but he had changed so much. Then again, she had changed so much. But while Salvisa was turning by the day into the sore old crone that she only thought existed in parent’s and grandparent’s generation, she saw her son before her as the young man she always dreamed he would become. Could it really be only a month? She thought, but he was a little overdue to mature anyway. The Bram before her was a well-muscled youth barely contained by the fabric of his robes, with a handsome face to match. Yet even if he had now nearly surpassed Salvisa in height and overwhelmed her in physical strength, not even the robes of a Bishop could make him stand straight and proud to his full stature.

“I never- I never thought I would live to see you like this.” She smiled, tears welling in her eyes  
“You wouldn’t.” Bram accused, glowering not at Salvisa but past her at Sasarai. He fixed his eyes on Salvisa, “Why, you wouldn’t wait, either! Why, you traitorous whore!”

The words flew past Salvisa’s ears unprocessed. She felt the deep wound of the tone of hate and rage in her son’s voice, and would have rather felt the betrayal of her True Rune a hundred times more than to see Bram’s face contorted with rage for another moment. She felt Sasarai tug at her hand.

“Why?” She asked, not sure if she was repeating Bram’s words or voicing her own feeling of betrayal, “You’re my son, I love you. I don’t understand-”  
“Do you ever get tired of lying?” Bram threw his hat on the ground in anger, “How more obvious do you need to make it that we’re just interchangeable cogs to you? So long as you have someone in power at your command…”

The air became thick with the charge of magic, making every hair on Salvisa’s body tingle and stand on end. A cyclone of raw, barely contained magic encircled Bram, crackling with embers of power. Salvisa’s world narrowed to an insensible black tunnel outside of the sight of her son, the fearful, rapid pounding of her heart, and the ineffable pressure of her own Rune mountings its defense against the magic of the Rune of Growth. Salvisa willed her own way back to control even as was dimly aware of a sudden need to cling to the balustrade for support, and a rattling of her small tunnel of sight told her that she had slipped down some steps.

Measure by measure, Salvisa fought back against her son, working hand in hand with the Rune of Decay to quiet the racing of her heart and bring her back to full awareness. Salvisa licked a trickle of blood away from her lips. She found her footing back, and felt the warm glow of Sasarai’s protective magic envelop her as she channeled her Rune’s power against her own son. The Rune burned on her forehead, just as the Rune of Growth shone like a beacon on Bram. The boy was the worse for wear. His eyes were red with strain, dark trails of blood dripped from his nose and ears, and he strained to breathe while he struggled for dominance of his Rune and Salvisa’s like a man riding an enraged chimera.

“Bramwell Posthuma, I didn’t raise you to be so rash.” Salvisa coldy admonished, “Think, Bram! You don’t have a rune vessel with you. Will the High Priest be so happy with your failure when my half of the Rune disappears to gods-know-where once more?”

She felt her son’s assault waver, and Salvisa lessened her call on the Rune to match though she forced enough of her will into her magic to keep him on guard.

“Don’t you dare talk about the High Priest.” Bram murmured darkly, and allowed the last of his spell to disappear into the silence of the library, silence marred only by Bram’s ragged breathing, “The next time I see you, I will crush you and all the world will know who Salvisa Posthuma really is.”

Nodding, Salvisa turned around. Sasarai still held her hand firmly, and Salvisa squeezed it back sadly as she turned her back on Bram and Marten. She turned back only as the door closed. Bram continued to watch pitilessly, not budging even as a thin rivulet of blood dripped down under his chin and onto the floor. The door closed, and then she knew only the presence of Sasarai, Austen, and the private but cacophonous world of the servant’s corridors.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa, Sasarai, and Austen Silverberg escape from the One Library and search for shelter

Sasarai led them down a tortuous path Salvisa was sure led the three of them nearly to the roof and deep into the sub-basements of the Crystal Palace adjoining the Library. Spurred on by adrenaline alone, Salvisa couldn’t care if this was a route cleverly chosen or merely the only one to their destination. Sasarai only paused at a broadening in the corridor, an alcove deep and high enough to host ten bed frames, each three bunks high. Exhausted slaves slept out their shifts so deeply they may as well have been dead.

“Do you need to rest?” Sasarai asked Salvisa pointedly.  
“Not for me. Go until we must stop. If we rest before then, I may not be able to continue. Austen, was it? What about you?”  
“Where are we now?” Austen asked Sasarai.  
“First basement, near the wine cellars next to the auxiliary kitchen. Western part of the Palace.”  
“What’s your plan?”  
“Either we leave tonight, or find a safe house until tomorrow. I have some friends in town that may shelter us if the Temple Guard scours the city. It’s about a week to reach Manastash, more if there is snow and we need to stay off the main roads.”  
“Do you know anyone else outside the city?”  
“Nearby? I know someone with a mansion about two day’s southwest, but they may not be home. It will add even more time to get back.”  
“Ugh, this is so much easier when it’s on paper.” Austen frowned and rubbed his temples, “I haven’t seen Uncle Bain in a long time- which other friends do you have here? I think we might as well wait until morning. I’m not too keen on night travel, and they’ll be more on alert now for anything out of the ordinary.”

In agreement, they made their way through the passages and to the massive wine cellars. The vaulted chambers were stacked to the brim with barrels and wherever there was not space for a barrel the walls were lined with a pincushion of glass bottles cloaked in a heavy mantle of grey dust. A lone watchman, a dog-kobold with floppy, tattered ears and an iron collar, sat on a small stool at an intersection between the path the intruders were one and one that led on either side to a sub-basement.

The piebald mutt of a foxhound smiled with lolling tongue when she saw Sasarai arrive, and knocked her stool over with a wagging tail. “Friend, we thought we wouldn’t see you again!”   
“I’m glad to see you, too. Almost didn’t make it.”  
The kobold wrapped her mismatched paws, one black and one white, around Sasarai, asking, “Who are your friends?”  
“The Lady Salvisa Posthuma and Austen Silverberg. Do you know if the guards have been any thicker? We need to get out as fast as possible, Salvisa especially.”  
“Is she the Flame Champion?” The kobold yipped in excitement  
“I am.” Salvisa said, “Pleased to meet you.”  
“Oh, we’ve heard so many stories! But I will hurry you out. First, though,” The kobold hurried over to one of the large barrels and went on her knees to fish something out from behind it, “I did inventory last month, and this wasn’t on it. I was going to give it to you, Friend.”

The kobold woman handed Sasarai an ancient dark glass bottle and clapped the dust off her paws, “Maybe you can share it with the bitch and pup- ah, your lady-friend and boy-friend.”  
“Thank you, Machteld. I will make sure your kindness doesn’t go to waste.”

They made their way out of the palace under the careful, hopeful watch of dozens of slaves’ eyes. Outside, snow poured down in large, heavy flakes. They coated the road in a layer of white already as thick as Salvisa’s boot soles. At Salvisa’s best guess, it was halfway between sunset and midnight when they finally reached Bain’s apartment. Their haste to reach shelter had been tempered by a need to appear innocuous to the patrolling nightwatchmen and every step Salvisa slowed with the weight of her exchange with Bram darkening her mind and sapping her physical strength. She regarded with disinterest the cold that pierced her bones and the fatigue that made every old injury and joint ache as Austen knocked loudly at the doors of the apartment. Any trace of light inside was blocked by thick velvet curtains drawn across the glass windows. They were almost ready to give up when at last Bain himself arrived at the door.

Bain’s eyes were bleary with focused work by lamplight, and he wore a heavy housecoat trimmed in mink. Behind him was an austere and narrow apartment, far longer than it was wide. A plain wooden stair to the immediate left led with treacherously narrow steps to the unlit second floor. Raising the lamp in his hand, Bain’s expression cleared into a focused look of care and concern when he saw his late visitors.

“I was half expecting you. Doesn’t look look like you’ve had an easy time with your success- come in and take off your boots.” Bain said, “I will see what leftovers there are. Care for a drink? I’ve become partial to hot milk these days.”  
“I’d like that very much.” Salvisa said.  
Bain gestured towards the leather seats in the front room while he disappeared in a whisper of silk and fur into the kitchen. As she sat down, Salvisa could hear a repeated click and the sound of gas lighting a small stove over the groaning creak of leather giving way beneath her weight.

Bain returned with a tray of cold roast beef, several cheeses ranging from mild to pungent, and a selection of dried fruits. A half-loaf of airy white bread studded with seeds balanced precariously on top. Austen dug into his choice of food by the fistful no sooner than Bain turned his back and returned to tending the milk. Sasarai carved out slices of creamy, ripe cheese and raised one morsel to Salvisa’s mouth. She took it between her lips and pressed the soft cheese against her palate with her tongue, allowing the delicate flavor to bloom in her mouth as the ripe, creamy slice fell apart. Both food and gesture gave Salvisa strength and peace.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasarai and Salvisa both are troubled by the events of the day, and each voices their thoughts to the person they trust most.

“How soon will you need to rest?” Sasarai asked for Salvisa’s ears alone  
“Soon.” Salvisa admitted.  
“I know where the guest rooms are, I can take you there.”  
She shrugged, irritating the site of the wound she had received at the Manastash fort. She reached up to massage it, noting with veiled bitterness and unwept tears how much more gnarled her once-smooth hands had become. Salvisa took small comfort that even with how she was falling apart slowly by weeks and quickly by trials, serfdom had been rougher on Flossie’s youth. 

Salvisa leaned in and said, “I don’t want to be alone long.”  
Sasarai kissed her on the cheek and on the neck, “I will be gone only long enough to bring your drink. Anything Bain can’t learn from Austen can wait.”  
“I’m not that impatient. I can politely take my leave.”

Salvisa ripped off two chunks of soft bread and layered them with meat, giving Sasarai his share before biting into her own. It was delicious, but Salvisa reflected it would not be long before she and Sasarai would have to abandon even small rituals like that before long. Once they returned to Manastash, and probably even now since they had Austen along, anything that might confuse her public leadership and private servitude would have to take place behind locked doors and tightly drawn curtains. A sour mix of emotion welled up at the thought, of regret and yet unhappy relief because even as she sat next to Sasarai and savored his gestures and his closeness, she found herself looking for the lost Bram who loved her in his face. Her darling child was not there except as a crude shadow, and Salvisa wondered who she was trying to fool, and why. Bram’s hateful words ate at Salvisa like gangrene.

Bain brought four mugs of steaming milk fragrant with anise and sweet with honey. Salvisa pressed her hands against the warm ceramic and enjoyed the soothing warmth,scent, and taste before excusing herself. Bain’s face, still writ with concern, became tinged with relief. As Sasarai guided Salvisa up the dark stairway by candlelight, Salvisa could hear the man talk joyfully with his nephew. Salvisa thought it sounded forced, as if he was biding his time before daring to discuss more serious concerns, or he was not on as close with Austen as he would have wished.

Lit by only Sasarai’s candle, Salvisa found Bain’s guest room unforgivingly in line with the man’s laconic tastes. Were it not for the amply understated luxury and subtle decoration, she might have found herself in a cell. Aside from the mahogany stain of the wooden floor, the room was in monochrome. The tall walls rose up in the misty color of a mountain pine forest at twilight, surrounding a bed the color of the sea at night. The delicate quilting of the bedspread shone like the broken pieces of the moon on the waves, and that sea broke on the shore of the smoky mattress below. Four down pillows at the head of the bed lay as beautifully white and soft as new-fallen snow, and the bed was flanked by ebony tables bearing a single silver lamp each.

The soft candlelight flickered as Sasarai placed his candle holder on a lacquered console by the door. Salvisa startled to feel his arms wrap around her from behind, pulling her waist close to his chest.

“I’m sorry, Salvisa.” He said, burying his cheek in the back of her woolen coat, “I should have tried to help Bram before I first left.”  
“What could you have known?” Salvisa said.  
“I could have checked with him at least once. It was my own blind spot that I would think that they’d stop at making him Bishop to ensure he would stay compliant. I could have guessed they would fill Bram with lies as well, and I’ve played right into them.”  
Salvisa pulled Sasarai’s hands from around her waist and turned to face him, pulling the man close by the collar so she could undo the buttons of his coat as she had for every evening since they left for Crystal Valley.  
“You know what they say about hindsight. Don’t hurt yourself.”  
“But I am hurt!” Sasarai protested, “I saw how much his words hurt you, and for him to attack you in the middle of the library. And I worry. I worry so much about when he finds the truth, how badly he will react to the betrayal.”  
Salvisa had already removed and hung up Sasarai’s coat. By reflex, he had taken a seat at the side of the bed and she knelt at his feet, carefully pulling off the first of his socks with eyes averted. It was well-learned habit, but also fear that she would see how upset the Bishop was and not just hear it in his quavering voice.  
“‘When’? Not ‘if’?”  
“Yes. In the library- it’s more a feeling than anything- I felt like as much as he believes whatever he was told, he still doesn’t want to accept all of it. When you scolded him, I don’t think he would have been so cowed if he didn’t still love you.”  
“I shouldn’t have said that. I hit exactly for his sorest points.”

Salvisa gently continued undressing Sasarai in preparation for sleep, before doing the same for herself in his full view. As each garment slowly hit the floor, she carefully folded it and set it by the bed until she was fully bare and kneeling at the feet of her general.

“Come closer. Turn around.” He commanded with the firm but sensuous tone he used so often when they were alone together. Salvisa obeyed, placing herself between his knees. She felt the soft touch of his fingers combing their way through her white hair, picking out the pins and ties that secured her braids gently as he went. 

“How are you, Salvisa?” Sasarai asked.  
“I’m alright.” Salvisa replied, her voice already slipping into distant dreaminess.  
“You know what happens when you lie to me.”  
“...I’m exhausted. I’m sore everywhere.”  
“Since today?”  
“Longer, at least since five days ago.” Salvisa shook her head, swinging one half-undone braid between her head and Sasarai’s hands, “I don’t know, it creeps up. When I have you to distract me, I feel better.”  
“What about after the library?”  
“I feel like a hag.” Salvisa half-laughed at her honesty, and leaned her cheek against Sasarai’s knee, “It’s just the fight, is it? Not the Rune- I don’t look worse?”  
“You’re beautiful.”  
“You know that’s not what I mean.”  
“You don’t look any older, Salvisa.” Sasarai cupped her other cheek with his hand, and brushed up along the curve of her jaw and the back of her neck to comb out her now-loose hair. “You’re bruised, but that’s all.Now, up.”  
Salvisa arose, and her general guided her to straddle his lap. She wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him, saying, “Thank you.”  
“I was very impressed, actually. Bram’s raw power with that Rune was phenomenal.” Sasarai said, raking Salvisa’s back with his fingernails so that her back arched at the sensation, “But you so much more than held your own.”  
“I thought my heart was going to explode.”  
“It’s strange, isn’t it? That the same power that gives strength can cause death; that the Rune you can destroy dragons with could also save so many lives.”  
“That you can seem so innocent and be so mean?”  
Sasarai bit into the prominent band of trapezius muscle stretching down from Salvisa’s neck to her shoulder, sucking in her soft skin even as he bit harder as if he could draw out her soul. Salvisa whimpered pleasurably as his white teeth left her skin with a smack, leaving behind a dimpled welt  
“Like this?” he asked and suddenly pulled Salvisa close only to roll her over onto the back so it was Sasarai who straddled his leader, his lover, his slave.  
Salvisa cooed, and covered him with kisses as best she would with his hand pinning her arms to the bed, and him leaning precariously over her.

“You impress me so much.” Sasarai whispered between a teasing assault all over Salvisa’s body with hands and tongue, nails and teeth, “That you’ve mastered a Rune like yours, and so quickly. And you serve me so well, the most attentively I’ve had in so many decades.”  
“Oh, there’s been others?” Salvisa teased.  
“More than I can remember. Is it a problem?”  
“I’d be hypocritical if it was. I’m a widow, not a nun.” She laughed, “Tell me about the last person you liked so much.”  
“His name was Dios.” Sasarai said, rolling Salvisa over again so he could embrace her from behind, “We met in Highland, during a failed annexation, and I employed him as my aide and eventually Chief of Staff. I’m not sure if he ever fully knew how much he meant to me, or in what way -- I was a little less brazen then -- but he always told me that if he was working for me, it was not work at all. Dios was always at my side for the rest of his life, a little more than sixty years.”  
“I want to be that for you.” Salvisa pressed his arms into her body.  
He squeezed her close, “You already are.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second glimpse into Bram's life since gaining the Rune of Growth.

Bram’s unlucky opponent fell with the dry crackle of splintering wood as his limbs broke, and gashes across his face and stomach poured out all substance from his body.

“Waste.” Bram growled, and threw his battered training sword into the dust. He wished it had been Ochs, wished it had been Salvisa, or that vile traitor who had stolen his face, or the Bishops, or gods forbid that blasphemous thought, his still-unseen father. But the training dummy was none of them, and only stared up at him with the rent remains of his painted mock-face, smiling as though it knew how impotent Bram was to quench the frustration and rage from today.

It was a waste. He felt no better as he stormed away from the destroyed dummy that bled sand onto the snowy training grounds. He had not even succeeded in good practice, so angry was Bram that he knew that all he was doing was hacking away. All those days of asking Ochs to scour the library in his stead were too were a waste- the books were not even misplaced, merely conscientiously ignored by the valet. When Bram took up his own search, the evenings of looking for volumes unindexed in the Library’s catalogues, those too had been a waste- they cited only each other, making painfully obvious the large gaps of knowledge in even the most celebrated hagiographies of the High Priest Hikusaak. 

No, thought Bram, they weren’t gaps. It was a vast chasm. Harmonia could assemble histories of even countries as far away as Zelant in finest detail, telling of every man, every motive, every move charting the nations’ history. For Harmonia’s own history, he could know every Bishop, every war, every birth and death, every criminal hanged, every single potch paid in tax and given in alms. But for Harmonia’s own founder, its High Priest, its Absolute One, there was a black silence around the year 230, a silence fed by Runes gathered for the nation’s continued peace and glory that seemed to disappear into conflicting fictions. Hikusaak’s diaries, taken down by generations of scribes, continued after that year in a way that seemed too mundane to be believed. Every time he wanted to ask his father the truth from his own lips, Bram was stonewalled by bureaucrats, barred by multiple sets of guards, and found himself no closer than the second of the nine antechambers and the umpteenth of a million excuses that surrounded the High Priest’s sanctum.

Bram turned back around and gave a running kick to the broken dummy that sent it rocketing across the training grounds and into the far wall, where it exploded in a cloud of sand, sackcloth, and splinters. As much as he wanted to do the same to Ochs and to the Bishops for their duplicity, his Mam had to prove them right. Salvisa had to prove them right, by putting every taste of truth to their words,to that story they fed to him that she had seduced his look-alike. And what did that make Bram, they had said, but just Salvisa’s poor puppet in her perverse lust for dominance. For why, the Bishops had intoned, have the Bishopric by the short hairs by proxy with her kidnapped false son when she could have a Bishop and a more compliant son at once? The very thought made his skin crawl, and Bram grew livid again with disgust and hate.

That stupid Bishop, Black Bishop What’s-his-name. He had no excuse to be so easily taken in, with certainly no excuse of youthful naivete. Just seeing his face had been painful, like seeing a reflection of his own mistakes.

Like seeing a reflection, thought Bram, of who he used to be.

Bram let out a hoarse roar of frustration that sent tears coursing down his cheeks and expressed what he dared not think or say, even to himself in his loneliest hours: that he missed recognizing his own face in the mirror. He missed that security, however false, of knowing who Bram Posthuma was. He missed his Mam, who coddled him through nightmares of empty rooms and smiled at every accomplishment of his youth.

As quickly and viciously as he screamed, Bram sobbed, not letting himself know why. It was enough tonight to know that he wanted to cry, no matter how much the freezing streams of tears and snot itched his face. Bram cried a long time, until his whole face burned red and puffed with sorrow.

With shuddering breath, Bram finally found a path forward for his thoughts. He could hate Salvisa, hate that Bishop, and still be a little grateful. If it weren’t for them, he would not have known of a secret door in the Library, and where there was a door, there would surely be a way to find what the curators of Harmonia’s history were hiding, and perhaps even a way to the High Priest himself.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasarai and Salvisa start to leave from Crystal Valley, but are interrupted by an altercation between master and slave.

Shivering in the cold air of morning, Salvisa dressed and groomed Sasarai to exacting neatness before correcting her own thorough dishevelment inflicted over the rest of the previous night and dressing once more in the guise of a second-class citizen’s servant. They had already finished breakfast with Bain by the time Austen came down the stairs, his steps leaden with lack of sleep. Rest had evidently been both late and fleeting, and the boy had forgotten to brush the tangles from his hair. As they left, nerve-wrackingly late, by Salvisa’s count, Sasarai handed the wine bottle stolen from the Crystal Palace’s cellars over to Bain as a parting gift. He looked it over with cool surprise.

“You do know how much this is worth?” He quizzed.  
“I hope enough to repay your kindness and hospitality, for the risk we put you through.”  
“There were only six known bottles of this vintage left, Sasarai. The last one sold at auction for… Nevermind. There are those who know the price of everything and the value of nothing, and I do not wish to be one of them. Your faith in my trustworthiness in itself is priceless, for what you wish to accomplish. Anything more you can ask of me I will do my utmost to provide.”

Standing just outside the open doorway, Salvisa bowed deeply on both her and Sasarai’s behalf, careful not to express her thanks in words. She remembered Bain’s warning from last time about staying in her chosen public role in the city.

The snow had not abated all night nor or all morning. Life still continued in Crystal Valley, but on roads thick with brown and grey slush that spattered back against the white drifts clinging to the facades of the capital’s buildings. The streets were thick with watchful Temple Guard, their cobalt uniforms standing out like beacons. Salvisa kept her eyes on the guard. She recognized some of them, but they paid no attention to an old woman with the semblance of a slave. Clearly not all the information Bram could have had was fully communicated. Salvisa couldn’t tell if he was protecting her or merely a fool, and cursed herself either way.

Salvisa had followed into an artisan’s district close to the western gate when their path was interrupted not by the continual flurry of snowflakes, but a burst of parchment out of a street-level shop door. Wind scattered the torn sheets into the dirty snow, but the girl who followed them fell where she was thrown. She writhed in the snow, turning to face her attacker, a deceptively strong, reedy man with black stubble on his shaven head. In his hand was a length of copper pipe.

The man swung at his slave, but missed when Salvisa rushed forward and pushed him into the slush of the street. Her heart pounded with anger and fear, for what she saw about to happen, and what she knew would befall her next. Salvisa stood stock still as the man rose to his feet, shaking clumps of filthy snow from his clothes.

“You bitch!” The man raged, and raised his pipe to strike at Salvisa before the Bishop interposed himself.  
“I am so sorry sir, my slave has yet to learn how to control herself.” Sasarai apologized.  
“By the High Priest, and what are you going to do about it? It’s bad enough I’ll have to burn all these plans mine touched, but I could have you jailed for assault!”  
“Don’t boast. We both know it will come down to a fine. Why don’t I save us both time with the legal pleasantries? How much is your slave worth?”  
The artisan scratched his stubbly head, appearing to consider it. “She’s worthless.”  
“How much did you pay for her, then? I am sure it will be more than any restitution I will have to pay you through the courts.”  
“Ten thousand.”  
“Twenty thousand and I will take your girl off your hands.”  
Salvisa blinked at the sum. For a purchase, it was a fair price for a both skilled and docile slave. As a fine for assault, it was a hundred times too exorbitant. The girl, too, was wide eyed, both in wonder and terror.  
“Do you know something I don’t?” The man asked. Suspicion soured his features.  
“Not at all.” Sasarai shrugged, and clicked his tongue to get Salvisa’s attention, “Pick up those papers for our friend.”,  
Salvisa obeyed, pulling wet and torn pages and shredded sheets from the slush. As she ranged the street for every scrap, she heard Sasarai continue.  
“I only see two people unhappy with their current arrangements, and myself willing to make amends.”  
“Why not trade?”  
“Mine is precious to me. Priceless, but not suited for the artisan’s trade.”  
The man leered, “Show me your twenty thousand. You’re not just buying any old girl with it, are you?”  
“I buy your forgiveness, your discretion, your silence. I have my good name to protect.” Sasarai smiled, pulling out a blue velvet bag heavy with coin. He tossed it to the man, who caught it and snatched his dripping papers out of Salvisa’s hands just as greedily when she returned with them.  
The man pawed through the contents of the bag, muttering some mental arithmetic to himself. The potch was just, and the price more than fair. He drew the bag’s drawstring tight and fastened it to his belt before pulling his slave girl up to her feet by the hair.  
“Git, you’ve cost me too much, wretch.” He threw her towards Sasarai and stuck in his hand into his jacket to pull something out before pausing. He removed his hand and folded both arms across his chest. “But you still haven’t taught your slave a lesson. I demand on your honor as a Harmonian you make her learn how to behave.”  
Salvisa froze, all hopes that the money would be enough to quiet this artisan shattered. There was no way that Sasarai would be able to refuse without losing face and drawing attention. She looked to Sasarai, who had taken a pose suggesting serious consideration.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa must endure pain for the sake of appearance. A familiar face bars he exit from the enemy capital and yet more trouble follows into the open roads once she leaves.

“Very well.” Sasarai said, “But I’ve already broken the switch I brought with me- may I borrow one of yours?”  
The artisan eyed the Bishop suspiciously, as if he expected him to take flight, then returned to his apartment.  
Sasarai looked around towards the idlers in the street and smiled. Suddenly, he grabbed a thick hank of Salvisa’s hair and pulled her ear close to his face. Salvisa felt her knees buckle from the shock; she had readied her legs to run.  
“Calm, Salvisa.” he whispered to her in that sweet, commanding tone he used when they were alone together. The fear began to ebb from her mind. “Calm. Forget them, think of me, and enjoy yourself. I’m sorry we cannot warm up as usual.”  
A rush of anticipation suffused Salvisa’s body and mingled strangely with the remnants of her terror. The anxiety faded.  
“Good.” Sasarai said, “Try not to look like you enjoy yourself too much.”

The warning alone pushed Salvisa to a plane of giddiness, vaguely aware but insensible to, and yet excited for the eyes watching her public disgrace. She leaned over to grip her ankles. Salvisa bit her lower lip in an effort to prevent herself from grinning as she looked straight ahead.

Sasarai tested the feel of the cane. Salvisa heard the tantalizing swish of it whipping through the winter air.

Sasarai pressed the polished wood against Salvisa, letting her know where to expect his wrath. She inhaled deeply, her lungs burning with the cold air, her cheeks burning with anticipation.

Sasarai struck. Salvisa counted.

Like so many times before, the pain registered as pleasure. Each strike was lightning that separated her soul from her body. She struggled to tell her body on earth to stay solemn, to not moan, coo, or smile, to announce each strike as clearly as possible. Her mind was soaring high, knowing that he was granting her this pain and joy, that he did it for her alone. Too soon the strikes stopped. Salvisa held on to the warm glow of ecstasy that suffused her core as long as she could while she arose, shaking and giddy, to her feet.

Salvisa took the borrowed switch from Sasarai’s hands, growing yet redder when the Bishop said softly for her ears alone, “Good girl, you did very well.” Salvisa returned the switch to the artisan.

“Good.” Said the man before taking out a folded paper from close to his breast and tossing it into the snow, “Sign these off as you will.”

The man disappeared back into his home, shutting his door closed. The slave girl sniffed and shivered. She waited forlorn for some command to direct her body.  
“And? What are you doing next?” Austen asked. He did not relish having to see the business that just occurred in front of him and cared nothing to hide the fact.  
“We find a notary- though not now- so we can finish forging our business with Miss…” Sasarai checked the folded sheet of paper, “Kaolin. We will be travelling for a while and I dare say her clothes will not be enough We shall take care of that first.”

Not much later, sheltered in the privacy of a dressing booth, Salvisa asked Kaolin, “What did you do that made him so mad at you?”   
“I fixed his drawings.” Kaolin scowled, “For calling himself an inventor, that ass- Master- whatever- has no clue about fluid dynamics.”  
Salvisa chuckled at the girl’s honesty. “Where did you learn about that?”  
“Greenhill. I studied there before coming home to Tieton Princedom, just before it was annexed. We resisted Harmonia, and it didn’t end well.”  
“I’m sorry.” Salvisa said, and handed Kaolin another shirt to try on.  
“And what of you? And what do I call your master?”  
“Now, that fits but is the wrong color for you.” Salvisa frowned, “If I know him, you will be free to call him by his first name, Sasarai.”  
Kaolin showed no sign of recognizing the name, “You know more about clothes than me. What are you to Sasarai? Valet?”  
“I can give you one answer now, but I will be able to give you a truer one when we are out of the city. As for me, I was born into nobility, but I had to give that up long ago.”  
“Tch, making me wait. These are fine enough to wear. Can we go? I’m sweltering.”

Sasarai paid, and Salvisa watched the streets nervously as they left. He hadn’t flaunted so much cash before, and now had marked himself as a wealthy but apparently weak target with only one senile women, a girl, and a boy in tow. There were eyes on them now, Salvisa noticed. Not from the Temple Guard, but greedy eyes that reappeared over and over in the crowds. Salvisa worried more for the hassle that might slow them more than the continuous snow already would, and for the surprise that the would-be muggers would be in for.

There was no trouble until they reached the western gate. Two mountain-like men were at either side, checking the papers of every man, woman, child, and subhuman that passed through the gates carefully. Salvisa recognized McKee, looking much more dour than she remembered him. She whispered this to Sasarai, who positioned himself to funnel into the other guard’s line. When they came close, Sasarai had his papers at the ready for the guard. The man looked them over and checked the faces of Sasarai, Salvisa, and Kaolin with growing unease.

“Excuse me, let me get my supervisor, Mister Scht-” he tripped over the pseudonym,”Mister Reinbach. McKee! Just a moment.”

McKee trod over heavily amid the grumblings of travellers anxious to leave the city. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

In a moment, Salvisa felt the lightning’s-tongue of fear shudder down her back as she saw a flicker of recognition in McKee’s eyes as he looked at the general, and grit his teeth so firmly Salvisa could see every muscle in his neck tense. Salvisa looked up through her long white hair, loose now, instead of braided. She could swear that there was a moist glitter in McKee’s eyes.

“What’s the problem, man?” McKee asked, letting the tension that had filled him dissipate.  
“The colors, sir. Do you think they’ve bled too much?” The man tapped at the forged stamp on both Sasarai’s and Salvisa’s papers.  
McKee took the papers and brought them close to his face, his blue eyes scrutinizing the papers and turning them over in the light. The tension in the air was almost palpable, from Sasarai and Salvisa’s fear of being caught, to the junior guard’s worry in the face of his superior, to the crowds anxious to make their journey and to know what caused their delay. McKee’s massive neck muscles flexed back and forth like he was grinding his teeth.  
“You are right, it’s just at the cusp of acceptability. You had these issued Solis 671? There’s a known problem with an ink batch used around then spreading over time. Didn’t you know you can get replacement papers at no cost?” McKee handed the papers back, and Sasarai stuffed them into his coat pocket while McKee pulled out a pad and scrawled out a note. “I’ll write you a notice for an appointment at the Palace for reissue. Good work, Hyden.”  
The other soldier, Hyden, beamed so widely at the praise he missed the meaningful look McKee shot both his former captain and the priest-general. McKee pressed his notice into Sasarai’s hand.  
“Sorry for the delay. Safe journey.” McKee nodded.  
Austen made an exaggerated sigh of relief once Crystal Valley disappeared behind them and they were on the long road west. “That was close, wasn’t it?”  
“Either very much, or not at all. I worked with that guard, the older one.” Salvisa said.  
“I thought so.”  
“Read this, Salvisa. I think it was the latter.” Sasarai handed over the rumpled note.  
“Oh, no wonder McKee was nervous. ‘I am on your side but it must be from this side of the walls.” I didn’t think he would be so loyal. Then again, it seems he had a demotion to be reduced to guarding the gates. I wonder what happened…”

Salvisa looked behind her, to the washed out grey sky and drifts of snow that obscured all but the highest roofs and towers of Crystal Valley. It seemed to have approached must faster than it passed away, like a bad memory. She found herself wondering, not for the first time, what strength Corbin had found to follow after her so quickly, with so much to lose. Why he might have stayed was less of a mystery- to return would be a death sentence while the Bishops still ruled Harmonia. McKee, too, had his family to care for. Had he tried to break rank with the other Temple Guard, as Corbin had, but failed in his only attempt? Or aided Corbin instead, for as Salvisa had been told, he didn’t dare come to assist her?

Dark figures bobbed among the snowdrifts and cartwheel ruts, veiled by the snow that still fell in heavy flakes. They were the same ones that had followed ever since Sasarai’s purchase of Kaolin.

“We’re still being followed. Two people.” Salvisa said as loud as she dared hoping the snow would smother the sound of her words from the ears of their stalkers.  
“Damn. Kaolin, Austen, are either of you any good with weapons?”  
Both shook their heads.  
“We’re too close to the city for a fight. Perhaps we can give them the slip if we cut across the fields. Southwest- I think with luck we could save the extra day from staying on the roads and reach my friends’ place by nightfall. If anywhere, we won’t be bothered there.”  
“It will be rough over the furrows.”  
“Any better than through this slush?” Austen interjected.  
“Depends. It could be icy, or a mire; could be no different than here. We would have to make our own path.” Salvisa answered.  
“Short cuts make long delays.” Austen muttered, “Let’s try it. We might shake these guys and gain a day; if not we could be a little worse for wear but on our original timetable, yes?”


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa and he friends find themselves accosted by Harmonian stalkers and aided by an old enemy- and yet ally- of Sasarai. Still, the encounter does not end without a threat to one of their number.

They ran across the snowy fields outside Crystal Valley. Each stumbled in turn, and each, breathless, looked behind them to see no followers, but only snow consuming their footsteps behind them. Salvisa felt herself hoarse and breathless by evening, when the snow was bathed in shades of orange and blue in the sunset. She herself was cold and shivering despite exertion and her warm woolen clothes.

“Is it much longer, Sasarai?” Salvisa panted.  
“No. We should see their house soon. If we don’t find it, she will find us.”

They had crossed a stone wall into a private vineyard, skeletal with the kiss of frost, when Sasarai’s words came true. The moon had begun to rise, glowing behind the cloudy horizon, when the darkened fields were interrupted by the slender form of a young woman. She appeared as suddenly as a ghost, as pale as the hidden moon. When she spoke, it was with the warm arrogance of an aristocrat so assured of her position she did not need to hide behind coldly calculated snipes.

“Trespassing, are we, little Bishop?”  
“We’re on your lands already? My apologies, Mistress Maikin. There were certain circumstances…” Sasarai bowed his head with respect and smiled.  
“I know, don’t think I don’t. We can still be on a first-name basis after all these years, Sasarai. We’ll see about your new friends.”  
“Yes, Sierra. This is Kaolin, Austen Silverberg, and the leader of our little rebellion, Salvisa Posthuma.”  
“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Sierra’s eyes turned hard like rubies and she looked past the group, “I suppose the fellows behind you are not friends?”  
Salvisa turned to see, cursing herself wordlessly with a hissing intake of breath. The two men who had followed them out of the city were still there. Somehow they had hidden all this time. Salvisa couldn’t understand their appearance except by assuming they had some sort of rune to aid them. She nodded in earnest to Sierra and, having left her sword in Manastash for the sake of disguise, called upon her Rune to ready itself for the upcoming fight.  
“Now then, it would be rude to force my guests to defend themselves against true trespassers.” Sierra teased, “Friends!?”  
Sierra called out into the night, and a swarm of bats answered in spite of the bitter cold. They squealed with delight and hunger as a clawed and fanged tornado, tearing into the bandits with a hundred tiny teeth and nails. The bandits fought against them as helplessly as one might beat back the wind. They staggered back, tripping onto the high ground of a steaming compost heap. The right hand of one man glowed with a violet crackle and the smell of ozone.  
Before he could loose his lightning bolt, Salvisa bade her Rune to do her will. She aimed not for the two stalkers, but for the hot, decaying refuse beneath them. The mound sunk beneath their feet and enveloped them in hot fertilizer, broken down from its constituent shells, kitchen waste, and manure in a mere moment.  
The shock broke the enemy magician’s concentration as the compost heap slowly sucked him and his partner to their waists. The weight of refuse surrounding them trapped both men. Sasarai pointed a fist bearing a jeweled ring towards them, but lowered it as he saw Sierra travel as a white and blue blur towards his target. She pulled his hair back with a painful twist.  
“You will get off my property, yes?”  
“Y-yes!” her victim, the mage, cried as he was lifted out of the mire of compost by one hand  
The mage’s partner swung at Sasarai with a knife secured in his coat when the Bishop approached. Sasarai called on the True Earth Rune to shape the earth around the man. Massive fingers of earth reached up and wrapped around his arms, now not striking out measuredly but flailing in panic until the mass of compost trapped him in its warm, unfeeling embrace.  
“Both of you will leave, yes?” Sierra glowered, wrenching the mage yet more by his hair and lifting him until his waist was free and the completed compost swallowed him from only the hips down.  
“Yes!”  
“And your partner?”  
The knife-wielder, almost fully buried, spat a tobacco-laden wad of phlegm. It landed expertly on Sasarai’s cheek and dripped down. “You want us to leave, you don’t half-bury us.”  
Sasarai grit his teeth, pulling out his white handkerchief from his coat to wipe off the offensive glob clinging to his face.  
“We are not the ones who thought it wise to track us all day. What are we worth to you?” Salvisa said to both helpless stalkers.  
“You show me some kid who drops twenty thousand potch in the street like it’s two, I show you a kid I could ransom for two million, with or without his old bat of a slave.” said the mage.  
“Who’s an old bat!?” Sierra hissed, dropping her prisoner back to the ground and yanking his head back again painfully.  
“Wasn’t talking to you!” the mage whined piteously.  
“Oh? And that was worth you two travelling through fields all day?”  
“Over these fields? No. But then I says to my partner here, ‘What kid’s so clever to spot us? Why’d he go off the main road?’ and he says right back to me, ‘Well, maybe it’s not some kid- weren’t the criers saying to look for an old hag and a brown-haired pretty-boy? And if she’s stupid enough to go against the Holy Kingdom, maybe she’s got so little self-respect she’d play a slave. And the ginger brat’s a Silverberg to boot; know the face from the Academy.’ So I think to myself, two million’s nothing when you cut the Black Bishop’s and the insurgent leader’s throats in the night. You got me? ‘Course you do. And I’m not dumb, you folks are ready to kill us-”  
“What would be the gain?” Salvisa interrupted.  
“Says the woman who cut down an entire garrison?”  
“When they were making a present threat on my life. And you, you say, are ‘not dumb’. Whether I believe that or not, I would hope you value your life more than your meager chances against two True Rune bearers.”  
“You’ll let us go? You know I can just tell Harmonia where you and your allies are.”  
“Fine on my end.” Sierra shrugged, “If you think you know who you are dealing with. And you, Sasarai? Salvisa?”  
“Whatever you think the words of scum like you would be to the ears of the Bishops and the High Priest.” Salvisa answered.  
Sierra let the mage drop to the ground, a further fall than he would have expected as the earth parted around both he and the knife-wielder. Too quickly, they scrambled to their feet with a tut of derision, the villain with a knife drawing his blade out to strike, the mage calling upon his lightning rune with a crackle of ozone once more.  
“You suckers!” cackled the mage.a  
With a crack of explosive magic, Sasarai pointed his fist at the mage’s head, and a beam of energy shot from one ring on his finger and straight through the other side of the mage’s head with a plume of blood. The spray flecked the snow with black in the darkening twilight. The mage fell, an ugly hole in either temple. Sasarai tensed his hand into an unhappy fist as the runic energy surrounding his ring faded.  
But the knife-wielder was still moving fast, and struck out before either Sierra or Salvisa could react. With the speed of a diving hawk, he aimed towards Sasarai but missed, his momentum carrying him forward until his blade caught in Austen’s arm. The blade shone in the fading light of the sun and the rising light of the moon as it cut through the fabric of the boy’s coat like a hot knife through butter, and Austen yelped with fright and pain at the blow.   
A black shimmer of magic that absorbed all light glittered perversely around the rogue. The knife blow was a feint- he had his real assault blazing like a pit into hell, in the form of a sickle the color of oblivion etched into his hand. In an instant, Salvisa felt a hundred invisible hands of that magic try to prise her soul from her body and the protective strength of the Rune of Decay, but they withered in the face of her will.   
Salvisa hardly saw her companions recoil in the face of the same magic as she lunged forward to tackle the knife wielder, scattering his blade into the snow. She held his arms back and wedged the whole of her weight behind her knee and into his diaphragm. The rogue gasped uselessly to recover the air knocked out of him.  
“I gave you a chance, why didn’t you take it?” Salvisa asked.  
He choked wordlessly under the pressure. As soon as he recovered his breath bit down hard on something in his mouth that sounded like the crunch of ceramic under a heavy boot. With a raspy exhalation, the man whispered, “You’re not taking me alive, and your boy’s good as dead too. Long live the High Priest!”  
He made a breathless, hyperventilating sort of giggle before going limp, and finally lifeless. His open mouth reeked of a sickly mixture of tobacco and almonds. Poison, Salvisa thought. She arose in a hurry to see how Austen was doing. He clutched at the tear in his coat, his face twisted in pain and draining quickly of color beyond what the dead assassin’s ugly rune should have inflicted.  
“Austen, are you alright?” Salvisa asked.  
“I feel sick.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With desperate horror, Salvisa learns that the wound inflicted on Austen is not one that even Sasarai's True Earth Rune can heal. They have one hope, Sierra's "Hubby".

Salvisa commanded her Rune to remove the poison that flowed through Austen’s veins, but felt like she was pressing the magic against empty air. Whatever nature of poison this was, it would not dissolve into harmlessness as the acid of the monsters she had fought in the Waste had. She grimaced, frightened at how quickly Austen was slipping. He wavered and fell, Salvisa catching him against her breast.  
“Sasarai?” she begged for a hopeful word. The general already was filling the night with pale citrine light.  
He too frowned. “I don’t know what was on that blade, but I can only keep Austen from falling further.”  
“Hubby should know enough about poisons.” Sierra suggested, picking the bloody knife from the ground, “You know which way home is, right? I will go on ahead and tell him.”  
“Help me carry him!” Salvisa called out to Kaolin.

Sasarai led as fast as he was able across the vineyard to Sierra’s modest mansion. The sustained magic of the True Earth Rune lit the way. By the time they came to the the nearest door, with Sierra and her husband waiting, the Bishop was panting and glistening with the sweat of exertion. Austen was no worse, but still no better as Salvisa and Kaolin handed him to the strong arms of Sierra’s husband.

“Sasarai, can you keep up it much longer?” Salvisa asked as they made their way to a couch in what must have been a private library or study. A low table had already been littered with vials, apothecary’s tools, blotted paper, and the bloody knife. In the midst of the debris was a large, many-drawered chest, half-emptied of its contents.

Sasarai nodded wordlessly, but Salvisa couldn’t feel confidence he indeed had much strength left. Salvisa pulled off Sasarai’s coat and could not only feel the sweat that drenched the inside, but could see his shirt plastered dark against his small frame. The hair at the nape of his neck clung into damp, sharp points. With his breathing so strained, like one who was at the end of one marathon knowing he must continue straight into another, Salvisa found herself afraid that her general would soon collapse himself.

As the blond man set to work, peeling off layers of clothes from Austen and examining the boy for signs of both life and sickness, Sierra brought by a bowl of hot water and towels. Salvisa found it fascinating to watch him at work. He had the same militarily efficient, clumsy, and at the same time overly careful bedside manner Salvisa knew from many Temple Guard tending to their wounded in the field. It was the manner of someone who knew what to do in an emergency, but lacked the skill and directness of a true doctor. 

He was handsome, Salvisa could see that too through the tense silence and oppressive worry that clouded the study. The man had made it into his early forties with the grace of an aristocrat and the roguish mien of an actor, not aloof like his missus but self-satisfied with his place in life. He had his blond hair combed back, save for a stray curling lock that hung in front of his face.

The man pulled an ampoule of clear liquid from the wooden chest nearby, opened it, and drew out a measure of its contents.

“That’s it.” He said, “Sasarai, can you hold on for just a minute more.”

Slowly the color returned to Austen’s face, and the man gave a nod that Sasarai could drop his spell. The general did so with a ragged sigh, nearly collapsing. The man wet a towel and placed it upon the boy’s head.

“I should be grateful it wasn’t you, Bishop.” Smiled the man. He was even more handsome when he smiled.  
“Thanks, Nash.” heaved Sasarai, “Though really, I’m no Bishop anymore…”  
“No matter, I’m glad to see you again. It will be a while before he recovers consciousness, but he’ll be fine now.”  
“What was it?” Salvisa asked.  
“It’s strange, a very rare poison. The closest I read of it was from the descendents of Nethergate in Nagarea- they found a way to mix runes that negate magic with fast-acting poisons. It’s unnatural, and expensive. For all that, the antidote is simple, hardly more than a remedy to restore magical affinity and some sugar- the only trick is to inject it. So many foods will do the same, but not fast enough.” He laughed with relief as color returned to Austen’s face, though wakefulness was still far behind, “I knew a poisoner, once. That memory kindled my interest once I retired from the Guard, and all these years I thought that ampoule would only be a testament to my madness in collecting rare poisons and their antidotes. I don’t believe we introduced ourselves yet- I am Nash Latkje, and I welcome you to the Latkje-Mikain manor. I would invite you to the drawing room, but I don’t want to leave our boy here. Who is he, by the way?”  
“Austen Silverberg. His father, Marten, has just been hired by Harmonia, but he thought playing the opposite side would be a good challenge for his son.”  
“They’re getting serious. Please, sit down. I’ve heard so much about your doings, Sasarai, and can I assume you would be Salvisa? Unfortunately it is all rumor. What’s with this ‘Black Bishop’ nonsense anyway?”  
Sasarai chuckled, “Ugh, ‘Black Bishop.’ Someone thought it would be funny, me being the only Bishop darker than blond. Ridiculous. As for our doings, before we get to that,” Sasarai said, pulling out papers from his removed coat, “You are still an official notary, correct? I would like you to sign some things.”  
“I am- it’s surprising, I request that status on a whim and they still haven’t wondered why I’m not dead yet. Let me see those papers.” After unfolding the forms and glancing at just the first few lines, he said seriously, “Sasarai, tell me what you want with… this. I am not going to let my ideals slide, even for you.”  
“Calm down Nash, it’s only the first step- The ink won’t even be dry before the next one. I must legally own Kaolin first before I can ask you to draft a deed of manumission for her.”  
Kaolin’s face brightened significantly at the news. “You’re joking!”  
“Not in the least. I’m sorry I could not do so sooner. So, Nash?”  
“You could have said so in the first place. I’ll have everything drafted and signed before tomorrow morning. Kaolin, can you read and write?”  
“Of course.”  
“Good, it will be easier to explain. Can you both come here, we can get started.”

Nash walked over to an elegant wooden desk and pulled out a series of stamps, pens, and blank forms.

As the seating around Salvisa cleared, Sierra took a spot next to her and smoothed out the light blue fabric of her skirt over her knees. She looked very young, Salvisa thought, and as regal as a princess. In the calm interval they had to wait, Salvisa found the energy to be a little jealous that Sierra could have the same bone-white hair, but the smooth face and delicate hands of a young girl.  
“It has been delightful to hear the stories that flow this way about you, Salvisa. What a pleasure to meet you in person so soon.” Sierra said by way of conversation.  
“All I’ve heard is that I’m the Flame Champion.”  
“You should keep your ears more open. I heard a pretty ballad the other day. It said the Flame Champion was a beautiful maiden who sold her soul to the devil to save her village. In return for the devil protecting the countryside she was cursed to be beautiful by day and an old hag by night. Then a Bishop sent to fight her fell in love instead, and swore to free the maiden of her curse.”  
Salvisa laughed, “If only!” She became thoughtful, watching Austen beginning to stir almost imperceptibly on the couch, and Nash, Sasarai, and Kaolin leaning over a mass of forms on the desk. “As the saying goes, believe half of what you see and none of what you hear. But I think I know where that all was taken from.”  
“Indeed.” Sierra smiled, that knowing smile of a co-conspirator. “We would enjoy to hear the grain of truth behind all of it once Hubby is finished working. Is there anything you need?”  
“Just to rest would be fine. If I can bother you for food as well, especially for Austen-”  
“Is vegetarian alright?”  
Salvisa nodded, though she found it strange. Forgoing meat was almost unheard of for anyone who could afford it, and even those who could only acquire the meanest gobbet by their wits alone.   
“Help me bring back the plates, if you don’t mind. Our servant takes the evenings off.”

Sierra walked in near silence over the thick carpets that covered the floors of her manor, the soft rustle of the gathers in her blouse like a gentle night wind in distant trees. Salvisa expected her to go to the kitchen, but instead found their path winding through the stately hallways towards the dining room. The table was still set for a dinner interrupted, with candles starting to gutter and drip wax on the tablecloth. Two full glasses and half-empty bottle of wine accompanied a modest dinner of rustic bread, an egg tart thick with onions and caraway, and green vegetables from a hothouse. Sierra gathered up what she could in two arms, and Salvisa did likewise.

“If it’s too much for Austen, I can soak some bread in milk.” Sierra said, “Say, Salvisa, I think I can guess one grain of truth in that ballad. Sasarai doesn’t seem able to look at you without smiling.”  
“He always smiles.” Salvisa countered, fearful that their close relationship was that obvious.  
“Not like he does then. Is it true, then?”  
“He loves me, I know. And I love him too, but he only saw me for a moment when I was young. In any case, I’m no maiden and Sasarai told me he was more inspired by his brother.”  
"Ah, Luc. I knew him too, from when I was involved in the war in Dunan. He was... prickly, to say it politely, but I was very shocked when Hubby told me how he had been behind the Second Firebringer War. I always felt like he was much kinder and more lonely than he pretended to be, but it hurt him too much to make friends only to leave them and return home. Of course, Nash knew Sasarai well but never knew Luc and thinks differently. We talked a lot about them both when he came home."  
"So you both have True Runes as well?"  
"No, only me, though my Rune grants me certain talents."

They had returned to the study before Salvisa could ask about a second realization that flashed in her mind. All this time, she had thought that the masked Bishop Sasarai so hated and the Luc that drove his betrayal of the Bishopric were two different people. He spoke of one with a tongue laced in fiery poison. The other he reminisced over with complex bitterness. And maybe, thought Salvisa, thinking over Sierra’s words, the mask and the man behind it- betrayer, betrayed; harbinger of death, font of hope- were no more similar than the sky and earth, and yet both were born into the same world.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Austen recovers in Nash's careful hands, old friends catch up with each other on news. Yuber's recruitment becomes a point of contention, and after the rest of the house is asleep, Sierra comforts Salvisa in a dark hour

Sierra carefully cleaned up the mess surrounding Nash’s medicine chest with a private smile before turning the small table into a little buffet. Austen still lay insensible, though Salvisa expected him to awake at any moment, and as she checked on the others she saw Kaolin sign her name in blue ink upon a last piece of paper. She could hardly wait for the ink to dry before clutching the papers to her like a lost soul recovered.

“Don’t let those go.” Nash advised, “Bathe with them if you must. And congratulations, Kaolin, you are a free woman again.”  
“Thanks so much, both of you!” Kaolin smiled.  
“You may go as you please, Kaolin. We’ll be heading south come morning, if Austen is better. It will be a few days before we come to the main road to Caleria. Our own destination is further, the fortress we are based at near a small town called Manastash.”  
“I will go with you, if you don’t mind.” Kaolin said, “At least until I decide where to go next.”

After that, they talked amiably into the night, waiting and watching for Austen to recover over enticing food and rumors from Nash and Sierra, and Sasarai and Salvisa’s sobering and yet more engaging truths. The story had only just progressed to their arrival in Caleria when Austen was finally able to blink fatigue from his eyes. He admitted to having no memory of the knife striking him, or anything after, but progressed rapidly from nibbling at plain bread to devouring the pungent onion tart. His questions, too, became more pointed as the tale progressed, probing for every detail he would gather even as he reclined on his side.

There was no contesting the story until Salvisa came to Yuber’s arrival, and her acceptance of his presence. She wanted to gloss over her decision, but lost hope when Nash nearly spilled the dregs of his wine onto the floor.  
“You what?!” He cried out, and Salvisa felt a lesser shade of the same indignation in his voice that Sasarai had first expressed. For his part now, the Bishop merely set his jaw firm against speaking out.  
“Yes, I said he could stay.” Salvisa affirmed, almost daring Nash to challenge her further.  
“Hubby,” Sierra urged, “He may run with monsters, but no one has said a breath of him attacking the common folk.”  
“And you’re defending that demon?!”  
Sierra smiled sweetly, “I’ve fought against him too, Hubby. Whatever Yuber might be, he is simple and mercenary. If Salvisa accepts him, we can expect Yuber to fight for us so long as we are winning, yes?”  
“For ‘us?’ Are you sure, Sierra?”  
Sierra laughed, lightly and girlishly, as her only response.  
“I don’t know this Yuber,” added Austen, ”but I will agree, if what you say is true. If nothing else he will be a barometer of how we fare. He won’t hurt morale?”  
“He is personally distasteful,” Salvisa admitted, “But I will have to see when we return how everyone else feels about him over the two weeks since he arrived, assuming he hasn’t left already.”  
“Regardless, it makes sense now what those Harmonian soldiers were saying.” Sierra said, “Remember, Hubby, a few days ago when they were returning to the capital?”  
“Yes. I should tell you now so it is not a surprise when you arrive in Manastash.” Nash nodded, “We had a half company, mostly bowmen, demand quarter for the night. They looked terrible, and said they were attacked by monsters while encamping on their way to the battlefield. Not just blade bunnies or wild boar either, real monsters- chimera and worse. They didn’t know how they appeared so suddenly, and after losing too many men they fled. But the monsters did not follow, and there weren’t any tracks of them leaving the encampment either.”  
“That.” Sasarai said darkly, “Is Yuber’s doing, Salvisa.”  
“But you were on the same side in the Dunan Unification War, right? Did he ever attack his own side?”  
Sasarai made a long pause as he thought, and shook his head. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s an evil coward.”  
“Let’s get on.” Austen yawned, “We have all week to argue later.”

There was little to tell, except for their journey to find Austen, and the events that led to Kaolin joining and their arrival at the mansion. Salvisa glossed over meeting Bram once more as best she could, but could feel the memory bitter in not only her’s but Sasarai’s and Austen’s minds as the story sputtered with awkward pauses and glances around the omission. Latkje-Mikain hospitality lightened the mood after with pleasant reminiscence of times past, especially between Nash and Sasarai.

The depths of the night found Salvisa still unable to sleep, warm and comforting as Sasarai’s arms were around her. She carefully removed his soft hands and put on a too-diaphanous gown to cover herself, then padded out silently through the door connecting Sasarai’s room and her own, and then quietly into the empty hallway. Tears already streamed down her face when she finally sat down at the top of the stair. As much as Salvisa knew why she cried, she also knew her mind was empty. Her worries and pains were fountains for torment she wished to forget, and those fountains had already filled her consciousness so deeply the sources were only known as a faint ripple added to the restless liquid surface of her mind. Still she searched for some catharsis, and hoped her tears would be the path through which she could release the icy reservoir of her unease.

Already, what had started as a silent flow had become sobs Salvisa stifled into choking hiccups. She was sure she would have woken up Sasarai just with the dampness of her tears, and hoped she could keep herself silent enough that no one else in the manor would awake. All these days on the road she could be distracted at times, but closing her eyes to the sorrow that nagged her worked less and less.

Salvisa felt a hand, delicate and feminine, on her shoulder and turned around. She caught a few strands of white hair floating out of view as Sierra sat down on the stair beside her, wrapping a lithe, pale arm around Salvisa’s shoulder. The lady of the house’s touch was cooler than Salvisa expected, and she still had not changed for sleeping. She would have been surprised by Sierra’s sudden appearance if it were not for the demonstration of her skills earlier in the day.

“Come with me to the drawing room.” Sierra whispered, “If you need to talk, I will listen. If nothing else, I’ve made a fresh pot of tea and the walls and doors are thick.”

Salvisa nodded, finding Sierra’s tone still warm and aristocratically aloof, but bolstered with genuine empathy. She didn’t wonder why- to know that Sierra also possessed a True Rune was reason enough, even without gathering during the evening that there was something both momentous and painful in how she and Nash had met. Salvisa wondered if Sierra might need a moment to talk of her troubles just as much as her guest.

The glow of a warm fire spilled into the hallway from the drawing room. Salvisa took a seat on one of the couches Salvisa suspected was chosen more to the wife's taste than the husband's, though the drawing room itself managed to unify both an aristocrat's elegant style and an adventurer's love of simple comforts and the exotic. 

Salvisa calmed herself down enough to ask, “Is that an Ivanov?”  
“You recognize it!” Sierra smiled, admiring at the landscape that hung above a side table that supported some Nagarean statuette, “Hubby couldn’t recognize one from graffiti.”  
Salvisa laughed and smiled, her tears ceasing for a moment of distraction, “My mother collected them for a while, or at least reproductions. We had that one in the conservatory before she replaced it with something from the Haud school. Terrible.”  
“That was in vogue a few years ago, wasn’t it?” Sierra shivered, and poured tea into two delicate porcelain cups.

Salvisa smelled the tea, recognizing chamomile but not the other herbs flavoring her drink. The hot vapor in itself was relaxing, but the flavor brought additional warmth and calm.

“But in credit to my mother, I think she knew. The Ivanov reproduction always hung in her powder room after she changed it out.” Salvisa said. After a long pause, she added, “Thank you, Sierra. You are too kind, to lend me your ear.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa and Sierra share with each other words they don't feel like they can share with anyone else. When they are once more on the road, Salvisa must confront in person what it means to have made an ally out of the mysterious Yuber.

“I know how it can feel, to be troubled and alone. I’ve had my confidantes over the years, and I’ve told them some things I don’t want Nash to hear.”  
“Like what?”  
“You think I’d tell you…? Some of what I did when I was much younger and hadn’t mastered the Blue Moon Rune yet. How I still wonder if it was just to hunt the vampires I have created, being Coven Mistress myself. Whether I was right or stupidly selfish to change Hubby, even if we are both happy.”  
Salvisa nodded, finding Sierra’s questions unanswerable but that the young lady was at ease with whatever truth she had found for herself. “My Rune still bothers me,” Salvisa said, starting with what was easiest, “Sasarai can’t understand, since he always had his and the True Earth seems so much more… benign. I hate these dreams, these visions it shows me. They’re not what I want, not what I feel. Even if he says I’ve mastered the Rune, that what I see will fade in time, I am so scared of the next time I reach too far and not know it. I’m old because I tried to save those people in Manastash, Sierra. I feel my body closer to death every day. I know that I grow sore and slow and weak, no matter how much I pretend that it’s only fatigue. When I hold my sword again, I’m not sure if I will even be able to use it well.  
“It’s not just the Rune I fear either. I haven’t told Sasarai or anyone else this Sierra: when we were in Caleria, I had a flashback. No, that’s not the right word, for a moment I was really there, and I felt everything all over again. I was in the pass again, in the avalanche.” Salvisa paused for a breath, feeling sorrow well up in her eyes again, “I lost them again, my husband and daughter. I felt young again, and I could feel the weight of my child, and then the snow… And then everything was gone. Everything was just as freshly painful as the first time. I don’t know if it will happen again, or when. That’s what scares me more. The Rune I can count on, but it’s been over a decade since that day and this was the first time that ever happened.”  
“I think I can understand.” Sierra said after a while.  
“Thank you. That helps a little. Austen and Sasarai were kind to skip over saying so this evening, but when we were in the library, I saw my son again. His half of the Rune changed him as much as mine has. I was almost happy he’d grown so handsome, but he… He said such hurtful things, and then tried to kill me. He nearly did, except I fought back and had Sasarai’s help. He has been all I lived for and I can only think of where I might have gone wrong.”  
Salvisa’s voice cracked with shame and sadness, and her hostess hugged her close with her soothingly cool arms. “I know how you feel, Salvisa. I truly know. What will you do if you meet him again?”  
“Try to change his mind. I don’t want to hurt him, he’s done nothing wrong.”  
“And if you couldn’t? I couldn’t save Rean, no matter how much I wished I could.”  
“I don’t know. I would try again, and again until he believes me or until something happens.”  
“I will pray for your success.”  
“Thank you, especially for listening to me.”

Salvisa and Sierra stayed in the study for a while more before the lady of the house banked the fire for the night. When Salvisa returned to bed, she found Sasarai only pretending to sleep. He pulled her close again and nuzzled against her shoulder.

“Where were you?” He asked sleepily.  
“Talking with Sierra.”  
“What about?”  
“She says only gauche vampires leave bite marks.”  
Sasarai kissed the mottled bruise left on her shoulder, and both soon fell into restful sleep.

They left Nash, Sierra, and the Latkje-Maikin manor when dawn still colored the winter landscape steel blue, as ready as they could be for the journey ahead to Manastash. The snow subsided over the days from a thick blanket to patchy sheets, and finally disappeared leaving only naked furrows and the stubble of the harvest. Time passed slowly as they walked the rutted wagon routes between small villages and isolated farmhouses on their way to Manastash. Each hour they were wary for an unfriendly face that might recognize them, and more than once needed to make themselves scarce when soldiers passed through the same inn. A few were the wounded, scarred by magic, cut and bruised by blade and club, or mauled by beasts. Some were messengers relaying word to and from the field. Many more were fresh-faced soldiers heading for the front. Their hosts were run ragged by the constant demand of quartering so many during the usually quiet winter.

They were half a day out from Manastash when they could see a Harmonian encampment along the road. Watchmen guarded both the road and the camp border, such that it would be impossible to pass by without going far out of the way. Salvisa guessed she might have been able to alone, but the others didn’t have the skill. After some discussion, Salvisa and Austen agreed that the encampment checkpoints were a better option than backtracking to give the Harmonian infantry a wide berth.

Salvisa hardly had raised her hand to hail the tired veteran watching the road in when shouts arose at the opposite end of the camp. The guard turned around to see the air stretch thin behind him and yawn into an infinitely thin mouth taller and wider than a man. The veil between worlds shifted in color like oil on water, and out through the opaque door between worlds galloped the first monster. She might have called it a unicorn, but the creature was enveloped in hellfire and its razor-sharp obsidian hoofs sliced into the plants it trampled on its way towards the unlucky guard. From the froth dripping from its mouth arose serrated fangs.

“Run away!” Shouted the guard, but Salvisa would do no such thing. She hurried towards the chaos even as four more hellish steeds emerged from the gate before it finally closed like a healing wound. Sasarai let out a string of colorful foreign words Salvisa didn’t think he would know, but among them and most vexingly spat was the name, “Yuber”. In truth, the same feeling of unease and involuntary disgust that had shaded their first meeting was apparent in the area, bleeding forth like a heavy fog from where the gate had opened.

She had no weapon but her Rune, but she struck out with it as heavily as she dared. One demon horse collapsed before it had a chance to impale the hapless guard, and a second fell to the ground completely lifeless. The corpse smouldered away with a char-less flame that soon subsided in the winter air before disappearing as flakes of ash on the breeze.

“Yuber!” Salvisa called out, so roughly her voice scratched at her throat, “Yuber! Come here at once!”

There was no question in her mind that now she had to answer for her choice to allow Yuber to ally with her. Even as she advanced, Salvisa could see that the otherworldly creatures appearing in the camp had no interest in anyone but the Harmonian soldiers. The hell-steeds that remained alive circled around to close in on the watchman. As much as Salvisa saw the value in Yuber’s surgically exact choice of targets for his love of bloodshed, she couldn’t countenance the horrifying wounds left on the survivors. That feeling was both practical, for her countrymen’s view of her forces, but also out of instinctive distaste for the gruesome wounds left by Yuber’s minions, not to mention the monsters themselves.

Sasarai invoked his True Earth rune to turn the hard earth around the creatures into a sucking morass that trapped their slender legs and sharp hooves like quicksand. Salvisa held their strength in check long enough for Sasarai to build up the momentum for a second spell that brought the earth up and around the demons like a wave, burying them alive in earth that soon hardened over them as if nothing had ever been amiss. The Harmonian guard quaked, his face pale.

“Stand aside.” Salvisa commanded, “My quarrel right now isn’t with you.”  
The guard did so, moving conspicuously away from his post and the violence that blossomed red in the camp.   
“Yuber!” Salvisa shouted again, and she ran towards a lone figure in the center of camp who was a whirl of ebony armor and slashing blades. Yuber toyed with his victims like a cat, more interested in their struggles as they died a death of a thousand cuts than in a quick and reasonable execution. The man stilled as Salvisa approached, still grinning from ear to ear with the excitement of his bloody work.

“Ah, my commander and her general.” Yuber said. “And your new friends. I was not expecting you to join in.”  
“We are not joining in.” Salvisa retorted. She thought she could detect a thrill upon Yuber’s face when he heard the anger in her voice. “Stop this slaughter at once and recall your monsters.”  
“You promised me chaos. I am taking my due.”  
“I did no such thing. You came to me seeking to enforce my own victory. I am here to tell you to find it on the battlefield with your sword, not in camps with your monsters. If you want chaos, you will do better to not make every man in Harmonia disgusted with my army’s methods. Otherwise you can know that you yourself starved us of support and caused your own failure,”

Yuber laughed. The sound made Salvisa want to strangle him, but even as she locked her own blue eyes with Yuber’s mismatched irises of steel and flame she could see in the camp that the monsters were disappearing back through shimmering gates into whatever world they came from.

“It was fun while it lasted. Tell your advisors that their fights will no longer be as easy as they have been.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa, Sasarai, and their new friends Austen and Kaolin return to Manastash. After an uneasy meeting with Lop, they meet with everyone else back at the fort to see what changes were made in their weeks of absence. Before the night is over, the rebels at Manastash fort have their own name and flag for their burgeoning army.

Salvisa watched Yuber walk out of the camp towards Manastash and turned to her companions. They seemed both stunned and relieved.

“Austen?” Salvisa asked.  
“What?” the boy snapped back to reality from some distant shore of thought.  
“I don’t want to leave these men wounded here, even if they are the enemy. What do you think?”  
“Umm… sure.”  
“I need more confidence than that from a strategist!”  
“Yes! Fine!”  
“Why!?” Salvisa asked, taking out her seething anger towards herself and Yuber on Austen, whose only fault so far was his timidness. “Why,” she started again, forcing herself to be calmer and kinder, “do you think that would be better than hurrying on ahead?”

Austen screwed his freckled face up in search of of a reason behind his gut feeling. From time to time his eyes stopped searching between his eyebrows and darted towards the Harmonian soldiers that tended to their dead and wounded, giving their enemy wide berth. They could hardly decide what to make of the unlikely group that so easily talked down the demon warrior that had plagued their camp and others.

“Do it for the goodwill. Aside from this True Rune business, you’re wanted for the murder of a garrison. You may repair some of that damage with kindness, not to mention what this Yuber has done. It only depends on the word spreading among the soldiers faster than the Bishopric’s propaganda does.”  
“Right. Sasarai, does your magic heal?”  
He shook his head, “Not like a water or wind rune. I can only help the body defend against ailments- poison, going berserk, afflictions like that.”  
“There may yet be people who need help with that after those monsters. Kaolin, Austen, help with triage as you can.”

Salvisa had spoken louder than necessary, allowing the soldiers at the camp to hear. Their help was accepted warily, and they departed the camp with barely more than a curt nod for thanks. Salvisa didn’t doubt that she might undo whatever help she had given to some poor soul within the coming days, but that would be under the fairness of battle. For now, her heart was somewhat eased to have addressed Yuber’s crimes in part.

As they approached Manastash, Salvisa grit her teeth. The hill fort had become grander over the two weeks since she had seen it last, but was roughened with scars of battle. Bolts of lightning and flame had scorched the hillside and some of the surrounding forest, and many of the remaining trees has been logged by both defender and attacker. The old town had been razed and its hovels replaced with fresh, modest graves. If this was what Yuber had called “easy,” Salvisa prayed that Austen would be able to provide the sorely needed help that Marten had promised. 

The hill was busy with preparations for the approaching night, and the battered land around it was empty except for a wiry boy resting one foot on a grave marker while he talked to a tall knight in ebony armor. Salvisa’s heart sank further. Yuber would be the last one she would wish for Lop to befriend, but he had done so. There was no mistaking the earnest, convivial expression on the peasant boy’s face as he slowly went through the motions of a new fighting skill with his shining knives. Yuber’s face had lost its maniacal joy, but his lips retained a pleased curl.

“Salvisa, welcome back!” Lop greeted as he caught sight her.  
“Yes, and it looks like we all have a lot to tell. Where are the commanders? I would have thought their apprentice would want to keep close and learn.”  
“They just went for a break.” Lop pouted, “I needed the air. Can’t you tell them to let Yuber stay in the fort? It’s not fair for what he does for us, even if he does run with monsters at night.”  
“I’d allowed you to find space for yourself.” Salvisa answered, facing Yuber. “Is there someone standing in the way of that?”  
He narrowed his eyes like a purring cat. “Peace and shelter are of no interest, and sleep does naught for me.”  
Seemingly satisfied, Lop broke off conversation with Salvisa and returned to his practice with Yuber.

The welcome for Salvisa’s return was subdued, if not grim. It was clear within the fort, just as much from the outside, that soldiers and citizens alike suffered as much as the naked hillside from the Harmonian assault. She saw Walse and his family bolstering the civilians with raw, bold will fueling their strong words in the oil-lit halls on the way to the war room. Even Don, who Salvisa had tagged as better suited for the quiet life of home and the fields, had found a brave face and bold voice. Salvisa bade Kaolin to mingle with her friends while she introduced Austen to her commanders and learned what had caused so much damage to Manastash.

The commanders regarded Austen, when they met him, with a mix of relief and skepticism. The strategist himself earned their contempt with his timidity at first, but as he drew out facts and numbers and histories, he grew in comfort and dissolved the image of a timid boy with the sharp truth of an astute mind and deep comprehension for his age.

The Harmonian forces had gathered around the most vulnerable flanks of the hillside fortress, and despite Yuber’s wanton destruction of the enemy camps and the quick arrival of several units under Captain Geddoe from Caleria, the uncanny tactics of the Harmonian army set the rebel forces back on their heels. The supply lines so carefully springing from Caleria were barely defensible.

As the evening wore on, Salvisa could feel her own wits become as ragged as her commanders’. They lacked numbers, more than skill. The Southern Frontier Defense Force especially had come away with numerous victories despite their small numbers, but they fought as a few pebbles trying to block a flood. Austen admitted by the end that their strategy was solid, if unimaginative, given what they knew. For his own part, Austen offered up several scenarios that he knew his father planned on pursuing and likely changes that would be made now that his son worked for the other side. These words were heartily accepted by the commanders like a sweet salve upon a burn.

“By the way,” Austen said after a long drink of water towards the end of the evening, “I know Harmonia is referring to you- ‘us’ now, I guess- as ‘the Manastash rebels’, and most of the field reports I’ve seen have locals refer to the group as ‘Fire Bringer’. Do you have an official name yet, or banner to fly under?”  
Salvisa shook her head, “No, we put the cart before the horse on that.”  
“The Defense Force are all fighting under their own flags.” Geddoe volunteered, speaking for a rare time this meeting. “For the rest, it’s been the Harmonian flags you came with but defaced, correct, Sasarai?”  
The Bishop nodded. “Futch, your Dragon Knights have their own banner as well?”

A broad-shouldered man wearing a winged circlet in his brown hair agreed, and Salvisa finally was able to tie a name she had heard so much over the evening with a face. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, but age was clearly no excuse for him to lead the Dragon Knights with only a pen and paper. Underneath his violet tunic Futch bristled with muscles needed to swing the massive sword slung across his back, and his black trousers were tight across the massive legs needed to ride his dragon through the skies.

“I wouldn’t mind being part of the ‘Fire Bringer’ again.” Futch said.  
“Neither would I,” Sasarai said, “but that name has too much cache as a southern rebellion from the Grasslands. No one outside the southwest would find that appealing, especially if they identify as Harmonian.”  
“What’s wrong with being just the ‘Rebellion’?” someone asked.  
“I don’t think that gives enough legitimacy.” Austen answered.  
“‘Salvisa’s Army’?”  
“I don’t want this to be about me.” Salvisa said flatly. “Can’t we be the ‘People’s Army’’ or something like that?”  
“Except that’s already too similar to the People’s Faction in the government. Though that may in itself help.” Sasarai bobbed his head from side to side, unsure.  
“Our aims, aside from keeping the True Runes safe, are largely the same.” Geddoe added.

Many more ideas were bandied around, but for everything florid, inspirational, or aspirational suggested the weight of agreement came solidly on the side of “The People’s Army” as the new name. The fight for choice of standard was much fiercer and threatened to come to blows before Salvisa declared through leader’s fiat that she chose a napkin sketch of Harmonia’s flag redone with its segmented ring emblem reworked in gold upon a green background, instead of white upon blue. Imposed over the ring was a similarly golden triangle. A bonus of the design, suggested one of Sasarai’s men, was that they merely needed to dye the old Harmonian standards and patch them up rather than create new ones from whole cloth immediately.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa and her commanders receive a dire message from Leknaat and Salvisa overhears a conversation not meant for her ears.

So satisfied with the subject of name and emblem, the conversation returned again to Manastash, focusing more on the underground city itself than the battlefields surrounding. Expecting that the hill would be besieged sooner or later, the storerooms were being filled as fast as possible and yet drained more quickly by the arrival of more and more soldiers and camp followers. Room for humans, dwarves, kobolds of every species, and even a handful of elves had become cramped and contentious until the dwarves managed to hollow out an extra wing using their mining expertise. That venture had led to the discovery of a hot spring and several as-yet-unexplored corridors behind a collapsed ceiling.

Salvisa was about to leave the meeting room after the other room after the other leaders when she heard the familiar hum of magic and a bright light suffused the room. Salvisa spun around. The shape that appeared behind the table was barely recognizable. Though blurred as a reflection in a fogged mirror, Leknaat appeared once more before Salvisa. When she spoke, the seeress’s face was a blank mask but her voice has the slightest edge of fear.

“Salvisa, I need your help.” Leknaat said, “If you do not move soon, my magic will be fully spent and my tower will fall to Harmonia. Please, Salvisa--”

Leknaat’s voice quit before the vague shadow of an apparition stopped moving her lips. The seeress’ projection broke apart as if rent by swords, and disappeared into a shimmering mist.

Adjusting the large sword at his back, Futch announced, “I will help.”  
“No,” countered Austen, “We will need every Dragon Knight we can spare. If she’s a seeress,she must know that.”  
“Where is Leknaat?” Salvisa asked.  
“Magician’s Isle, off the coast near Gregminster.” Futch responded.  
“I’ll go with.” Sasarai said.  
“But we might need your generalship.” Salvisa countered.  
“Go, your Grace.” said a commander, ”We will do you proud, especially if our strategist proves himself.”  
“I trust you.” Salvisa nodded, “But as the proverb says, ‘Make haste slowly.’ As concerned as I am for Leknaat, we should take tomorrow to prepare before setting out. 

More drifting than walking, more dreaming than awake, Salvisa wound her way through the quiet halls like a lone spark from a sputtering fire, first bright from passionate warmth of the other gathering flames, then cold and pale and carried through the night air only by the wind. She still wore her boots when she collapsed into her own bed. Salvisa plummeted towards sleep, barely able to form words around the feeling that she would have just as easily found the same comfort on a stone floor, and not on a feather bed (and this was new, she managed to think, not her old straw mattress), as long as the stone floor was her own.

There was a faint knock at the door, followed by a woman’s voice saying, “Salvisa, are you awake?”  
Salvisa made a sound something like, “Yeah.” When the door opened, she refused to open her eyes to the soft light that leaked into the room from the hallway.  
“I’m glad you’re back safe- I worked on your clothes a little more while you were gone. I’ll leave them on the table.” She said, and Salvisa finally recognized the voice as Freia’s. Freia said one more thing before the door closed softly against the world once more, but Salvisa wasn’t sure if it was “Sorry I missed you” or “Sorry. I missed you.”

Had she known the skill and effort that Freia had expended over the weeks she was gone to Crystal Valley, Salvisa would have leapt to her feet and kissed the girl last night. Freia had outdone herself. The shirt she had sewn previously had its seams neatened, its edges embellished with simple embroidery with threads gathered from disparate sources and more disparate dye lots, the trim salvaged from old dresses, the whole so harmoniously pieced together from rags it was once again new. No less had been done for the loose trousers modelled after Salvisa’s own.

Salvisa bundled the clothes close to her breast, smudging them with what road dust had not already fallen to the hallway floor or onto her bedspread. Racing down to the newly discovered hot springs, she hardly lingered in the humid room before putting on her new clothes. They were a breath of fresh air from the ill-fitting borrowed clothes she had for the last few weeks. Riddled with smiles, Salvisa plaited her damp hair and left ready for what days she could spend in Manastash before she needed to once more depart for the road southwards.

All the talk of changes in the fort filled Salvisa with an urge to see them with her own eyes. The new wings matched the old and dusty ruins in form and style impeccably, though the walls had yet to be decorated as intricately with murals as the old part of Manastash fort. The existing murals were not holding up well to the influx of heat and humidity, and crumbled more rapidly than they could be studied. The most fascinating new addition was a creation called an ‘elevator’ that promised to take people from one floor to the other without the need of stairs, but it stood unused. Salvisa did not want to see for herself what she was told about the chamber behind two wrought iron grillwork gates, that it shook horribly and had a tendency to get stuck between floors.

She was exploring the basements of Manastash, still roughly carved, dimly lit, and nearly empty, when she heard a voice that made her skin crawl. It was Yuber’s, and to Salvisa’s ears hearing his tone was as dark and sweet and unpleasant as drowning in a barrel of wine. Mingled in conversation with Yuber was another voice Salvisa knew well, that of Sasarai. To hear Yuber alone, when she was so certain he had spent all his time out of doors, was intriguing enough. That he was talking with the general who most fiercely opposed his presence was so tantalizing a scene Salvisa quickly pressed herself up against a wall. She heard no footsteps from the two, but the pounding of her own heart threatened to obscure the conversation she wanted to eavesdrop on.

“Are you done yet, little Bishop? It’s as plain as your face that you didn’t wish to only tell me my place in your woman’s army.”  
“Salvisa is not ‘my woman.’ But yes. I have only one question, and then, Fate willing, I will have no need to speak with you again.”  
“Do you think you can ask Fate to be that kind to you?”  
There was a pause, and then Sasarai said, barely audibly, “I will guide Fate, if it is small enough a change of course.”  
“You are humbler than him.”  
“I ask what I can, given what I am. He should have known as much. As for my question-” There was a pause, pregnant with pain, “You are the only one left who worked alongside Luc in his last days. What I never was able to understand about him was why he took such care to save lives even as he would kill thousands with plan.”  
“I could tell you two stories. There was a man who would listen to his Sarah even when he cast aside all counsel from the sorceress who raised him. That was plain. But my eyes-” Yuber paused, and Salvisa could imagine Yuber salivating when she heard the rise in tempo and expression as he continued “-if you could have seen with my eyes! You would have seen a wretch, the Rune entwined in his soul like old tree roots through a barren rock. Do you think you won honestly at the Ceremonial site? The whole of you, with all your True Runes, could barely defeat a lonely, dying man.”  
“That is not an answer to my question, Yuber.”  
“No, Sasarai, it is. He could have laid waste to the world until he earned his wished-for dying breath, but then, how could he still die and call himself ‘human’? That was all he wanted. The Rune had almost crumbled his soul completely when he saw his double chance- to succeed and murder thousands for the sake of the future, to fail and leave the Grasslands intact for the moment. And yet either way, he would die with what remained of his broken humanity.”

Silence.

Salvisa measured her quaking breaths as slowly and shallowly as she could muster. She feared the joy in Yuber’s words, the agony in Sasarai’s heart, the truth behind the distant war that seemed more entwined with her own destiny than she ever would have believed. But was this destiny a constricting vine or a free-flowing river, and would she have to make the same terrible choice as Luc if left alone? She could feel her body dying about her every day, but had never though her soul was at stake. Salvisa’s thoughts turned bitter as she considered that Yuber may have been seeing the same in herself as he had seen in Luc two centuries ago, all this time savoring her slow destruction with verve.

Salvisa’s whole body trembled as she watched Yuber stride out of the corridors. He paused for a moment and looked back, but at whom Salvisa could not guess under his helmet.

“Does that knowledge satisfy you?” Yuber asked mockingly.  
“Leave.” Sasarai commanded.

More uneasy moments, and Salvisa watched Sasarai leave so ponderously he seemed as if his clothes had been turned to lead. As much as she wanted to comfort him, Salvisa held back in guilty silence.


	40. Author Interlude II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts as I write...

I’ll be honest: I knew this day would come.  
When I started this work, I was at a point where my job was giving me far too little work. I begged, was denied, and so I wrote. In all honesty, I would wonder if they could claim a serious portion of royalties (in the off chance this would ever get published) because of how many hours I worked on it at work, instead of on my free time.  
That is no longer an issue. I’m at a new job which I love, with new hobbies (on top of my many old hobbies…) which I love, and between these two there’s little time to write. My buffer dries up, and suffice to say it won’t be a few missing weeks with equal weeks of chapters any more. And yet, there’s still so much story to go, and so much I know I want to rewrite before posting. I can only hope to find time during my short Christmas break when there’s no job, no dancing, no sewing, no foster cat, etc.  
Thank you to my dedicated readers (I know you exist from the visitor counts and nations :p ). I can’t say how much it warms my heart to see those views always catch up to the most recent chapter. But as a lurker myself, as I wonder whether the adventure, the romance, or something else keeps you reading, I can’t say I demand reviews. You read, and that’s enough.  
As for the story, I still know the major landmarks of where I want it to go, and as I’ve promised myself, I will only progress step by step to each milestone. I know Salvisa will meet with Leknaat in person, and the circumstances, but not the time (ie. pagecount). I know too that she and Sasarai will be separated, and that Salvisa will journey north to face her homeland (and family) and the Tower where the Howling Voice Guild resides. Salvisa will rejoin with her son, and what she learns from that meeting will drive her straight into the heart of Crystal Valley to seek Hikusaak himself.  
I’m not sure how much more to emphasize the romance between Salvisa and Sasarai going forward. There is partly a feeling of contempt I have against OC and canon characters, one that I have conspired against myself to create (oops~!). There is also the unease I have with the image of an apparently old woman with a younger man in the image of her son, which is much of what Salvisa struggles against herself. Also that I want to write an adventure, not a romance. At the same time, it’s written, I’ve tried to make it real, and there feels like an obligation that I shouldn’t avoid continuing the relationship, no matter how uncomfortable. We’ll see where I go and where I end.


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa and Sasarai decide they must travel to Gregminster, and Kaolin decides she will travel with them. The journey brings echoes of painful memories to Salvisa, and finally a stab of danger.

The next few days were busy enough for Salvisa, for a time, to forget Yuber’s words. She saw battle as Harmonian Army renewed their assaults daily against the newly-christened People’s Army. She saw the underground murals in new light when an artist who installed himself pulled her aside to explain the significance of Sindar art, and his efforts in their repair. She met with mercenary and civilian dwarves, elves, kobolds of all species, and humans as often as she needed. She spent time with Walse’s family as often as she could, and time with Sasarai as much as she dared.

Salvisa was taking breakfast with her general in Manastash’s new restaurant when Kaolin stormed to the tableside. If the floor was wooden board and not stone, Salvisa would have expected her meal to rattle of the table and scatter across the restaurant.

“You’re leaving!” Kaolin accused.  
“Yes, as soon as we finish. Is something wrong?” Salvisa replied calmly.  
“You could have said so. To Gregminster? Take me with you just that far. I have an old tutor   
there.”  
“I thought you were planning on staying here.”  
“I am, but if I have a chance to visit for even a day, I’d rather make that journey safely.” Kaolin said and twisted her hands nervously, her eyes wide and imploring Salvisa for the chance.  
Salvisa understood the sentiment well, and nodded her assent when she saw Sasarai bearing an expression of approval.  
“Thanks!” Kaolin jumped with excitement, “I’ll tell Celsian and and Mr. Meerschaum and meet you at the front gate!”

Just as suddenly as she appeared, Kaolin had run off to tell her two dwarven friends and engineers of her good fortune. They had arrived a while ago with grand plans to modernize the fortress with machinery Salvisa had not seen since her journey to the Island Nations on Maren’s Pearl of Illuya. Meerschaum had painted a vision of a quiet lift that would span all levels of the fort, but plans turned into a barely-functioning mechanical death trap. Kaolin’s arrival sparked several breakthroughs that led to the total dismantling and reconstruction of his invention. Any completion was weeks away but the theoretical groundwork had been fully revised and completed. Salvisa had faith that the “elevator” would work without issue after that- Meerschaum was as accomplished in the realm of practice as Kaolin was in the realm of theory.

Not long after, Salvisa, Sasarai, and Kaolin met at the entrance to the Manastash fortress. Salvisa wished she could have had a grander entourage as both Lop and Freia also joined. Salvisa would have preferred Corbin, but he had been adamant his skills were better served at the fortress. If nothing else, Freia still abhorred the presence of so many former Harmonian military and Lop would be better served away from Yuber’s toxic influence. 

Their journey would take them not towards the dryness of the Wastes and Caleria, but outside the edge of the rain shadow and towards the sea. After booking passage on a ship- most likely a smuggler’s, but Salvisa still hoped for the comfort a legitimate vessel could provide- it would be a rapid journey down the coast to Gregminster, and from their just a short journey by a second boat to Magician’s Isle, where Leknaat dwelled. Most of the intelligence the People’s Army had gathered was on the area inhabited by their enemies to the north and their allies to the east. Salvisa could not help but tense at the thought of the foreign territory they would be going through soon. The forests east of Manastash were still lawless and populated with various sub-- Salvisa corrected herself-- non-human races. Any news about the eastern reaches of Dunan was sparse and old. Harmonia had all but forbidden travel across the land border with its southern neighbor, and even merchant ships were under strict scrutiny. 

“Do you think we could get passage on one of Bain’s ships?” Salvisa asked on the road as they skirted around a clump of lonely pines.  
“Only if we have a letter from the man himself, and he is still in Crystal Valley.” Sasarai shook his head. “If Kathei wasn’t so far north, we could probably get away with a message from Austen to Bain’s household staff.”  
“Do you really think we’ll be able to sneak aboard a boat?” Freia asked.  
“‘Course.” answered Lop. “They got into Crystal Valley and all that, right? And there’s bound to be at least a few Dunan ships who wouldn’t mind.”  
“You forget all the customs officials are Harmonian, and they would mind.” Salvisa reminded Lop.  
“They’d have to find us first, and recognize us. We’re good, Freia. Have you guys decided what you’re going to do?”  
“We were thinking I could be a teacher, and you my students.” Salvisa said. As well as the master and slave gambit had worked before, at least for Sasarai, Salvisa didn’t think she would be able to try it again. “I will be escorting you home to Gregminster after independent study in the One Library or at Soldelt; we can decide as we go.”

Slowly the scattered trees grew denser, breaking up the cold wind that howled across the hills into a restless murmur, cutting the already short daylight with their impenetrable and knife-like shadows, yet sheltering the five travellers from the ever-increasing snow and providing a source of fuel to warm the unpleasant nights. Kaolin could only find entertainment in getting to know her companions and reminiscing over her mountainous homeland, but Salvisa joined Lop and Freia in delighting at the subtle change in animal life. The birdsong in the forests was different in the forest than in Manastash. The game was sturdier, built for strength over speed, for even the forest near Freia and Lop’s home sheltered animals that preferred the vast expanses of open sky and treeless earth surrounding the little fort.

They were halfway to the coast and nearing the end of their day’s journey when the skies darkened to slate grey, and the blizzard came. These were not the small, fine flakes that they were used to, but heavy and wet clumps that fell like wet feathers through the still air. By the time they had made a decision to encamp early for the night, the snow had gone from a fine dusting on the ground to a heavy blanket that reached past Salvisa’s ankles and weighed down pine branches. Snow needed to cleared out of the way of the tent’s entrance flap by the time it was fully set up.

The silence outside was oppressive, Salvisa thought as the last of her reconstituted soup and staling share of bread settled in her stomach. She had first watch tonight, and already missed the constant noise of the night. From time to time Salvisa checked outside, but she saw only the rising drift of white consume what was left of the darkness outside. The sight made her stomach twist itself into knots. It reminded her too much of Verloren Pass.

But that time at the pass, which she had already experienced two times too many, was a sudden disaster. There was the roar of falling snow, shouts of men, panicking horses. And the snow was packed so close around her she could hardly move her body. Sitting in the tent, only Salvisa’s mind did not rest. Freia had curled into a ball inside her sleeping bag, and Lop was wrapped around her in an embrace. Kaolin adopted a strange position that must have been common in the former Tieton Princedom- she sat upright, supported by a sturdy pile of gear and supplies. Salvisa had asked Kaolin why she did not want to lie down, and learned of two principles Kaolin had grown up with: one must always be ready, and only the dead lie down when they sleep. Salvisa had tried for the first few nights to see how well Kaolin’s position worked for her, but found it less than restful. Sasarai was just a mop of brown hair at the mouth of his sleeping bag, a position that reminded Salvisa painfully of how Bram slept when they were both in the Temple Guard and in the field. Even at home as a small boy, Bram would pull up the covers well past his forehead seeking a warm bed.

A pang of nostalgia and regret hit Salvisa, but was quickly dashed by the crunching sound of footsteps in snow almost at the roofline of the tent. With the soft light of a lamp piercing the canvas from above, Salvisa could see that the tent was almost completely buried, and snow still kept falling. Salvisa looked up and hissed for her companions to arise as she drew her sword. The footsteps stopped. A spear stabbed down through the tent canvas.


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Salvisa and her party are captured by elves who are none too kind despite Salvisa's attempt at warm words. Tempers flare in the depths of winter.

Salvisa started back, holding her sword at the ready as the spear stopped well above the traveler’s heads and cut through the rest of the tent. In a painfully slow moment, the top of the tent opened up and more spears invaded the space, threatening anyone to move. Behind the suddenly blinding light of a lamp crowded elven faces.

“Do not move, humans.” One elf threatened. His accent was thick to the point of his words being almost unintelligible.  
“We mean no harm.” Salvisa said, placing her sword down in the middle of the tent where all the elves could see it, “If we trespass, let us leave your lands in peace.”  
“No.” Said the elf. “I cannot make that choice, but our chief will. You will come with us.”

The elves pulled their captives from the tent through the hole in the roof. Lop awoke ready to fight, but Salvisa quietly commanded him let the elves bind his wrists as she allowed them to bind her own, and to not resist as they confiscated what weapons they found. She felt confident enough in the power of her Rune of Decay and Sasarai’s True Earth Rune to handle any threats to their lives and as unfriendly as the elves’ greeting was, Salvisa sensed this was out of caution rather than real malice.

Travel to the elves’ village to see their leader was difficult. The elves stepped lightly with snow shoes, but Salvisa and her companions, not equipped for the unexpected weather, sank deep into the snow until they were loaded onto a sleigh drawn by white deer-like animals with shaggy coats and broad, fleshy and thickly-furred feet. Riding to the village struck Salvisa as a strange experience. As much as she thought she knew where the elves guided their steeds, what felt like direct driving spun the snow-laden trees around her in dizzying ways. Salvisa couldn’t tell if the elven village was north, south, east, or west of their original campsite.

Even so, there was only Fate ahead of them. The deer stopped, steaming and foaming, in front of a large wooden house with stairs leading into the snow. In warmer times or drier weather, it would have been suspended above the earth on four stout tree trunks that barely showed now at each corner. The elves helped everyone to their feet and guided them into the house.

Inside was dim and smoky. A fire burned in a central pit, warming the room and casting long shadows against the plain wooden walls and the elderly elf sitting on a stool by the fire. The firelight lit every crevice in his face and made him seem more haggard than he probably was, and made the glass beads in his fine sky-blue hair flicker with color like drops of oil in water. Salvisa noticed then that she had only seen one type of elf today- the old. Salvisa wondered why there were no youths guarding the village at night, or wandering the forest by lamplight.  
The elderly elf watched the humans be prodded past with all the emotion of an asp. Salvisa and her companions were marched past a door bound in iron and flanked by two guards, then down a flight of ill-lit, uneven, and loose steps to a chilly basement. She could make out what might have been shutters set into the walls; she thought it strange for a basement to have windows until she remembered how their tent was completely submerged by the snow. The room they were in now stank of pickles and rotting wood. Haunches of preserved meats hung above lidded barrels and locked chests, and then Salvisa and her friends were pushed into a corner walled with stone and hemmed in by thick metal bars.  
The elves guarding them closed the cell door, clipping Lop in the nose as he ran towards them trying to make an escape. They left without another word. There was only a moment of fearful, introspective silence before the ancient elf walked slowly down the stairs. He braced himself against the wall with every creaky step, and the glass beads in his hair chimed with his heavy footfalls. The solemn rhythm in lamp-lit darkness was like an ancient funeral procession. Behind the blue-haired elf followed two of his guards with torches.  
“Humans are not welcome here.” The blue-haired elf said. His voice was rough with age and years of wood smoke. “Especially Harmonians.”  
The elf’s eyes locked with Salvisa’s. She remembered that even if she was aged, she still had a first-class citizen’s stature, face, and clear Harmonian-blue irises.  
“We are only passing through.” Salvisa insisted, “Please, we have a friend who needs our help. We need to get to the coast as fast as we can. My lord-”  
“Ha!” The elf laughed loudly. “‘My lord’? Captivity makes your kind humble, doesn’t it? The last men who passed through here were all but ready to curse the name of your High Priest by the time we finished with them.”  
“Are you done with us? I can curse the High Priest right now.” cried Lop, exasperated. Salvisa turned around to hush him. The boy was struggling against the bindings on his wrists.  
“We’re no friends of Harmonia’s Bishopric.” Salvisa explained, “Have you heard of the ‘Firebringer’ or ‘The People’s Army’? We are them.”  
The elf shook his head that he did not. “You are a poor liar. I know the Bishop behind you.”  
“Sasarai…?”  
“Yes. I took my men into your village. We killed all who resisted, and brought whoever was young and fit to Crystal Valley as slaves,”  
Sasarai was stone-faced as he made his confession. It was not the steeliness of one who didn’t care, thought Salvisa, but the hardened determination of a man who over decades had rehearsed his pain and was used to the shame and years of preparation to admit his fault. There were things he had to do, Sasarai had said, as Bishop. Whether he wanted to or not. Salvisa wondered which it had been then, and whether his care for subhumanity in Harmonia existed before the Second Firebringer War and his knowledge of the Ashen Future. She wanted it to be so, but was painfully aware of how much she struggled still to choose courteous words and tones when speaking with these elves, and she could see the derision in Lop and Freia’s eyes as a small spark of superiority they might feel over anyone in Harmonian society. All that, even among the rebels of all species and races that had come to occupy Manastash.  
“I only have my niece left.” Announced the elderly elf, “She is deaf-blind from the fever that struck her before you Harmonians invaded our village. That was the only reason she has not joined her parents or my children in enslavement. Deaf-blind! She could not say her farewells, and she will never see her family’s tomb. The only people left to our village were too old- and they are now all dead- too sick, or too good at hiding from you Harmonian dogs.”  
Salvisa caught Lop rolling his eyes widely in Freia’s direction, and the girl’s lips twitched quickly into a smirk before she regained her impassive expression. Freia’s reaction surprised Salvisa, who would have expected a scowl from the girl towards Lop for his impoliteness, regardless of her feelings towards elves. Then again, Freia might be the last to find the elven elder’s story worthy of the drama he put into it, especially compared to her own.  
“I am making amends.” said Sasarai, “What else do you want? If you wish, I can take you to Manastash and you can talk with the elves, dwarves, kobolds, all who live there.”  
Now it was the elf’s time to make a face of disgust as he said, “Elves have no business degrading themselves by mixing with other blood, and we cannot trust elves who would debase themselves by doing so. My great-great grandfather left our ancestral home at Liukiae Ende Towayo to preserve our culture from Kirkis and his foolish notions, and I will honor his memory.”  
Any sympathy Salvisa had evaporated. She automatically balled her hands into fists and made a move to swing them forward, only to be reminded by the rope that bound her wrists that her only recourse to fight was the Rune, and as repugnant as she found this wrinkled elf it would be worse to make him bow to the force of the magic she could wield. She felt wounded that he would reject her offer for the very reason Salvisa had come to fight so strongly for, a unified and classless society. Even if she would have remained only with a base desire to protect herself and her half of the True Rune, she would have been less disgusted with the fact that he was an elf than that he was more fiercely xenophobic than the most hardline isolationist Harmonians. After all, with Holy Harmonia being the grandest country in the world, should it not stand that the proper goal—so thought those extremists-- would be making all the world Harmonian? Even if there would be only a small pool of true-blooded first class citizens leading a continent of the second-class, the third-class, and the subhuman.  
“Why would you even think that?” Salvisa said aloud. She was asking both her past self and their captor.  
“You cannot understand our pride.”  
“Then we better not disgrace you with our presence any longer. Let’s go.”


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Driven to anger, Salvisa bids for freedom with a display of her half of the True Rune's force. In the dead of night, she manages to get to a safe house, but how to get to her final destination, to the Magician's Isle and Leknaat, is still uncertain.

Salvisa called on her Rune, and meager torchlight was overwhelmed by the glow of magic piercing through her headscarf. At Salvisa’s command, the ropes that bound her and her friends turned brittle, and then to dust. The elf recoiled in disbelief, his eyes squinting into small slits as his mouth hung open to reveal every missing and stained tooth. Salvisa did not need to use her Rune to keep the village chief from calling out. Fear did that on its own. The magic that filled the room roiled off of Salvisa with a strength that belied its small effect. She may as well have stood before him and obliterated a mosquito with the legendary Burning Mirror.  
“I was kind to let you treat travellers like us as you did.” Salvisa said, “If you need to gloat over any humans, do not let them be True Rune bearers again. Especially if you share enemies with Harmonia.”  
Salvisa turned the iron bars around them into dust, only mildy curious amid her indignation at how easy the effort seemed now.  
Leaving the elven leader in shock, Salvisa led her team out of the wooden house without a second word. The elves who had driven them there had not yet left. Salvisa considered the strange creatures that drew the sleigh. They were both exhausted and nervous, and would be no use to her if she commandeered the beasts. Sleep would be welcome- but their tent would likely not be found again until Spring with how thickly the snow continued to fall. With it would be lost all the supplies they had taken with them.  
“You’ll be giving us back our weapons.” Salvisa announced to the waiting elves. She said it as though the village chief had given her the authority to demand whatever she wanted. “And you’ll take us to the nearest house east of here where we can rest for the night.”  
There was no question from the elves. They looked at Salvisa with fear apparent even in the darkness. Her Rune’s terrible light must have shone out of every crack in the wooden house. Each in turn, the elves helped Kaolin, Freia, Lop, Sasarai, and Salvisa into the sleigh. Their motions were stiff and formal as they did so, as if the elves did not want to touch humans in any way, let alone ones that had cowed their leader. Salvisa was surprised when the elves even went as far as to give them a thickly furred skin for warmth against the wind and cold. One elf whistled for the creatures drawing the sleigh to begin their work once more. Amid the warmth inside the sleigh, the rocking motion along the snow, and the deep hour of the night, Salvisa fell asleep in spite of herself.  
She roused just a moment before the sleigh stopped. Looking around blearily, she saw just Sasarai had his eyes open, and barely at that. The snow had stopped falling, and indeed they had travelled so far that they were on the thinner edge of where the storm had been. In front of them was another house in the same style as the ones in the village, though smaller and more worn. Salvisa would have guessed that this house was about the same size as the old hovels at Manastash, though the grey, rotting panels with mud falling out of the chinks might afford more interior room than what Freia had grown up in.  
The holes in the hut became illuminated with the edges of a candle’s glow as the elf sped off in his sleigh. Someone else was already in the dilapidated house, and now also awake in this unfortunate hour of night. Salvisa waded through the snow. The door opened just as she reached the first rotted, loose step in front of the house. A female elf stood in the doorway, a large battle axe between her and the outside and a candle in one hand. She was middle aged, younger than the elves in the village, and seemed to have been carved of seafoam. Her skin was pale and her long hair cascaded over her shoulders in a waterfall of pale blue-green bound up in leather ties. Her eyes, so dark blue they were black, regarded her visitors with an unreadable blank gaze, while her lips were still relaxed with drowsiness.

“Humans.” She said to herself, “Funny you made it away from Elder Branle. Usually only elves he dislikes are taken out here.”  
“We-” started Sasarai, but he was cut off.  
“Come in, there are many spare skins. Sleep as much as you need, and I will prepare food in the morning.”

Salvisa nodded her thanks, and followed the elven woman in. She laid her axe at the side of a straw pallet covered in hides, and helped spread thick furs across the creaking floor. She moved without haste and mechanically, as if sleepwalking through a familiar routine.

“Good. See you in the morning.” The elven woman said.  
“Wait, what is your name?” Salvisa asked.  
“Musette.” She answered. Salvisa was surprised that such a delicate name could belong to such an indelicate figure of a woman.

Musette barred the door to her house, doused the candle, and returned to bed. In the darkness, Salvisa could barely make out that the elf kept one hand on her axe while she slept.

Salivisa awoke the next morning to daylight pouring into the hut like stars shining in the night sky. She had somehow nested Sasarai’s body against her in the night, and moved away delicately, aware suddenly of how the warm furs had caused her to sweat in the night. No wonder they were so musty and yellowed, if they could keep someone warm in such a poorly maintained hovel.

“What brings you here?” Musette asked as she passed out a meager breakfast of dried meat barely softened in a porridge.  
Salvisa explained, sucking on her breakfast as she did so until she could gnaw off small pieces to swallow. Musette’s interest grew when she heard of their capture, meeting with the village chief, and their departure.  
“Ah, you were lucky.” Musette said, “Usually Branle has humans killed after berating them for their grandfathers’ wrongs. Maybe Aise, his niece, has finally been able to get through to him. If you were elves- we get a few runaway slaves from time to time- he might have tried convincing you to stay. No outsider stays long with a village chief like that, not even in good times.”  
“Why are you out here, then? The village is a long way off…” Kaolin wondered aloud.  
“I just said, didn’t I? I am not too keen on Elder Branle’s way of things. I was just a small girl when the last slavers came through, but even before then, I could tell something was wrong in that village. Something strange in how people spoke and what they spoke of, compared to the few visitors we have. It grew worse after the raid, and many who remained left for the south. I stay for Aise’s sake. If she ever changes her mind, she will need me to guide her.”

Salvisa nodded her understanding, feeling her eyes moisten in sympathy at the mix of sorrow and anger in Musette’s tone that cracked her already rough voice still further. The elven woman bore a crushing loneliness that Salvisa could hardly begin to fathom.

“We must leave,” Said Salvisa when it was time to go, “Which is the nearest port?”

Musette craned her head to the ceiling in thought for a moment, before telling Salvisa the directions and landmarks to Quilomene, a town she described as a larger Harmonian settlement that did fair business in fishing both normal animals and sea monsters. Musette went there often, as business except for refugees was not forthcoming from the elven village. As she spoke, Salvisa detected a shift in tone that foreshadowed her final words, “Let me take you there myself.”


End file.
